PUBLICATIONS  OF  THE  ROCHESTER 
HISTORICAL  SOCIETY,  No.  II. 


SKETCH 


THE  PUBLIC  AND  PRIVATE  LIFE 

4 

.  OF 

SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS, 

;  '  ^  <jF 


SALEM,  CONNECTICUT. 


THE 


John  Spencer  Bassett  Collection 


Established  in  1928 

BY 


MEMBERS  OF  THE  9019 
AND  OTHERS 


This  Volume  Received  From 


DUKE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 


PUBL1CA  TIONS  OF  THE  ROCHESTER 
HISTORICAL  SOCIETY:  No.  II. 


.  \  \  I  f{ 

SKETCH 


THE  PUBLIC  AND  PRIVATE  LIFE 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS,'^'- 

OF  SALEM,  CONNECTICUT, 

WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF,  AND  LEFT  AS  A  TOKEN  OF 
AFFECTION  TO  HIS  CHILDREN. 


Together  with  Reminiscences  by  his  Children,  and 
a  Genealogy  of  the  Hopkins  Family. 


150522 

ROCHESTER,  N.  Y. 

PUBLISHED  BY  THE  SOCIETY, 
1898. 


E.  R.  ANDREWS,  PRINTER,  AQUEDUCT  ST.,  ROCHESTER,  N.  Y. 


\  V 


*-j  0  h  •  7  ^ 

R  fc  7  6  p 


PEEFATOEY  NOTE. 


At  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Rochester  Historical  Society  on  the  evening  of 
March  14th,  1898,  the  President,  Mr.  George  M.  Elwood,  being  in  the  Chair, 
Dr.  Augustus  Hopkins  Strong  read  to  the  Society  extracts  from  the  manuscript 
autobiography  of  his  grand-uncle,  the  Hon.  Samuel  Miles  Hopkins,  LL.D. 
As  an  introduction  to  his  reading,  Dr.  Strong  made  the  following  remarks: — 

“In  the  archives  of  the  family  of  which  I  am  an  unworthy  representative, 
there  has  been  for  the  last  fifty  years  a  little  manuscript  book  which  was  writ¬ 
ten  just  sixty-six  years  ago.  It  is  a  treasure  which  has  never  been  made  public, 
and,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  it  has  never  until  this  evening  been  read  outside  of 
the  family  to  which  it  belongs.  It  is  a  sketch  of  the  public  and  private  life  of 
Samuel  Miles  Hopkins,  of  Salem,  Connecticut,  written  by  himself  and  left  as 
a  token  of  affection  to  his  children.  I  propose  to  read  to  you  this  evening 
some  portions  of  this  little  autobiography.  Before  beginning  my  reading  how¬ 
ever,  let  me  connect  it  with  the  proper  work  of  this  Historical  Society,  by  say¬ 
ing  that  the  author  of  the  sketch,  who  was  born  in  1772  and  died  in  1837,  and 
who  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws  from  Yale  College  in  1832,  was  in 
his  later  life  a  man  of  note  in  Western  New  York.  He  was  the  founder  of  the 
village  of  Moscow  in  Livingston  County,  was  a  resident  successively  of  Mount 
Morris  and  of  Geneva,  and  among  other  offices  held  those  of  State  Senator  and 
Member  of  Congress. 

“I  take  particular  interest  in  the  narrative  because  he  was  a  grand-uncle  of 
mine.  There  are  others  here  however  who  are  more  directly  related  than  I, 
and  are  in  the  direct  line  of  descent  from  him.  I  refer  to  Mr.  John  H.  Hop¬ 
kins,  and  to  Mrs.  J.  P.  Varnum,  his  grandchildren.  The  fact  that  the  autobiog¬ 
raphy  is  addressed  to  his  children,  and  was  never  written  for  publication,  lends 
a  tender  interest  to  many  parts  of  it,  for  it  is  the  frank  unfolding  of  an  affec¬ 
tionate,  highly  cultivated,  and  naturally  noble  mind.  It  is  the  life  story  of  a 
man  of  unusual  endowments,  whose  lot  was  cast  in  stirring  times,  and  who 
made  his  mark  upon  his  generation.  The  account  of  his  education,  his  early 
connection  with  Chancellor  Kent  and  Aaron  Burr,  his  experiences  in  England 
and  in  France  at  the  time  when  the  first  Napoleon  w'as  rising  to  power,  his 
adventures  in  the  untrodden  American  wilderness,  his  misfortunes  and  suc¬ 
cesses,  his  religious  faith  and  devotion,  is  too  graphic  and  interesting  to  be  lost. 


150322 


IV 


ROCHESTER  HISTORICAL  SOCIETY. 


It  contains  valuable  material  for  our  early  history,  and  for  that  reason  I  have 
thought  it  a  quite  appropriate  theme  to  occupy  our  time  for  this  session  of  the 
Rochester  Historical  Society.” 

Before  proceeding  to  read  from  the  autobiography,  Dr.  Strong  made  some 
allusion  to  the  ancestry  of  Samuel  Miles  Hopkins,  and  to  the  distinguished 
men  who  have  borne  the  Hopkins  name,  among  them  Dr.  Lemuel  Hopkins, 
the  poet,  of  Hartford,  Conn.,  who  exerted  no  small  influence  as  a  writer  of 
political  and  satirical  verses  diuing  our  Revolution ;  Stephen  Hopkins,  one  of 
the  signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence;  Dr.  Samuel  Hopkins,  of  New¬ 
port,  R.  I.,  the  great  New  England  theologian,  whose  sermons  stirred  up  the 
first  organized  political  action  against  slavery  in  America;  Esek  Hopkins,  the 
first  Commodore  of  the  American  Navy;  President  Mark  Hopkins,  of  Williams 
College,  one  of  the  noblest  teachers  of  young  men  and  one  of  the  most  influ¬ 
ential  writers  on  ethical  science  that  this  country  has  produced;  and  Professor 
Samuel  M.  Hopkins,  D.  D. ,  the  son  of  the  author  of  our  sketch,  and  for  many 
years  Professor  of  Ecclesiastical  History  in  the  Auburn  Theological  Seminary. 
Further  information  in  regard  to  the  Hopkins  Family  has  been  embodied  in 
the  Genealogy  which  follows  this  Sketch. 

At  the  conclusion  of  Dr.  Strong’s  reading,  Theodore  Bacon,  Esq. ,  displayed 
a  book  published  in  1826.  It  was  entitled  “Reports  of  Cases  Argued  and 
Determined  in  the  Court  of  Chancery  of  the  State  of  New  York,  volume  I.,  by 
Samuel  M.  Hopkins,  Counsellor-at-Law.  ”  Chancellor  Sanford,  Mr.  Bacon  said, 
appointed  Mr.  Hopkins  as  Reporter  in  his  Court.  The  decisions  of  the  Court 
were  published  in  one  volume,  and  this  volume  in  point  of  accuracy  is  exceeded 
by  few  in  the  English  language.  Mr.  Charles  E.  Fitch  mentioned  a  Fourth  of 
July  Oration  which  was  delivered  by  Mr.  Hopkins  in  Syracuse  in  the  year  1820. 
Continuing,  Mr.  Fitch  expressed  his  judgment  that  the  document  which  had 
been  read  by  Dr.  Strong  was  far  too  valuable  for  purposes  of  history  to  be  kept 
from  the  public.  The  result  was  the  appointment  of  a  Committee  consisting  of 
Dr.  Strong,  Charles  E.  Fitch,  and  George  P.  Humphrey,  to  confer  with  the 
family  in  regard  to  the  publication  of  the  manuscript.  The  assent  of  the  family 
having  been  obtained,  the  autobiography  itself  is  now  published  by  the  Roch¬ 
ester  Historical  Society. 


SKETCH 


OF  THE  PUBLIC  AND  PRIVATE  LIFE  OF 

SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


To  my  Children  : 

For  some  years  past,  I  have  intended  to  leave  behind  me,  for  your 
perusal,  a  short  account  of  the  more  important  events  of  my  life. 
That  life,  indeed,  has  not  been  conspicuous,  nor  to  my  fellowmen  of 
much  importance.  On  the  contrary,  it  has  been,  most  generally,  a 
scene  of  disappointment,  leading  to  results  very  different  from  the 
sanguine  hopes  of  early  years.  But  it  has  also  been  a  scene  of  bless¬ 
ings  and  mercies ;  and  my  estimate  of  the  value  of  life  itself  is  much 
more  favorable  than  that  of  moralists  in  general.  My  principal 
motives,  however,  for  leaving  any  memorial  of  a  life  of  so  little 
general  interest,  are,  that  it  will  be  a  token  of  the  dear  love  I  bear 
you ;  that  it  may  incidentally  afford  lessons,  or  warnings ;  that  it 
may  possibly  (though  I  am  not  sure  that  I  shall  write  enough  at 
large  for  that)  afford  me  the  opportunity  to  note  some  thoughts 
which  may  interest  you  ;  and  finally  that  I  think  some  sketch  of  my 
early  recollections  may  transmit  to  you  who  are  to  follow,  such 
views  of  society,  manners  and  things,  as  one  generation  may  be  glad 
to  receive  from  those  who  went  before.  I  will  also  add  a  few'  mem¬ 
oranda  concerning  our  family  and  ancestors. 

Hitherto  I  have  obtained  no  certain  knowledge  of  my  progenitors, 
farther  back  than  four  generations  previous  to  myself,  that  is  to  my 
great  grandfather.  His  baptismal  name  is  not  known  to  me,  but 
according  to  some  memoranda  which  my  father  sent  me,  he  removed 
from  Hartford,  in  Connecticut,  to  Waterbury,  which  must  have  been 
towards  the  year  1700.  The  family-tree  which  I  intend  to  annex 
will  show  our  direct  line,  and  such  other  of  his  descendants  as  are 
known  to  me. 


9 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


In  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Collections,  vol.  8,  p.  207,  is  an 
account  of  the  first  settlement  at  Plymouth,  from  which  it  appears 
that  on  hoard  the  first  ship  was  a  person  of  the  name  of  Stephen 
Hopkins,  who  was  of  some  consideration.  Stephen  has  been  a 
hereditary  name  among  us.  Hr.  Daniel  Hopkins  of  Salem,  Mass., 
wrote  me  that  he  had  no  doubt  but  that  Stephen  was  our  common 
ancestor.  His  brother  Samuel  of  Newport  (in  writing  his  own  life, 
I  believe)  made  a  remark  to  this  effect,  that,  so  far  as  he  could  learn, 
lie  descended  from  a  stock  who  were  Puritans  as  far  back  as  Queen 
Elizabeth.  I  now  add  that,  as  far  back  as  I  learn,  they  have  been 
very  universally  honest  men.  I  think  it  is  very  common  that  bless¬ 
ings  descend  through  a  long  train  of  the  descendants  of  pious  parents. 

My  grandfather  removed  from  old  Waterbury  to  the  parish  or 
“  society  ”  of  Salem  (part  of  that  town),  which  must  have  been  about 
1730.  I  believe  the  family  were  large  original  proprietors  in  the 
town.  He,  my  grandfather,  and  father,  lived  at  the  old  family  place 
until  my  father’s  removal  to  Goshen  in  1774.  My  father’s  mother 
was  of  the  Tallmadge  family  of  Long  Island  (from  which  place  was 
Col.  E.  Tallmadge  of  Litchfield,  a  cavalry  officer  in  the  Revolution¬ 
ary  War).  My  mother’s  name  was  Miles.  My  grandfather  married, 
as  his  third  wife,  the  widow  Ann  Miles  of  Wallingford  (her  family 
name  was  Daily),  who  had  several  children.  They  all  removed  to 
Salem  and  made  one  family,  with  my  grandfather ;  both  families 
lived  in  great  and  uninterrupted  friendship  during  their  lives. 
My  mother  was  the  daughter  of  this  third  wife  of  my  grandfather. 
This  grandmother  Miles,  who  lived  till  my  age  of  about  18  or  19, 
was  a  woman  of  uncommon  mind  and  information  ;  well  versed  in 
many  things  which  our  country  women  of  that  age  did  not  generally 
study, — such  as  Geography,  etc.  She  was  a  reader  of  Josephus  and 
of  Ancient  History,  and  brought  to  my  grandfather,  among  other 
books,  the  works  of  Milton,  Young,  Rowe,  and,  I  believe,  of  Pope.  I 
remember  the  Turkish  Spy  and  several  others.  These  added  variety 
to  the  collection  of  strict  Calvinistic  theology  and  Puritanical  ser¬ 
mons,  which  were  at  the  old  Hopkins  residence,  and  they  inspired  a 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


3 


strong  love  of  reading  in  the  whole  family.  My  father  once  drew 
up  for  my  use  some  notices  regarding  our  families,  but  he  was  so 
much  engaged  at  the  time  that  he  did  not  ever  revise  them.  It  was 
soon  after  the  death  of  my  uncle,  Dr.  Samuel  Hopkins,  hereafter 
mentioned.  Thinking  what  he  wrote  rather  too  hasty  for  presenta¬ 
tion  as  a  whole,  I  now  extract  the  following  remarks  from  it. 

My  grandfather  died  in  1790.  He  was  a  grave,  thoughtful, 
observing  man,  of  rather  a  melancholy  character,  which  perhaps 
might  be  increased  by  his  religious  views ;  for  in  religion  he  was 
almost  of  the  strictest  sect  of  the  Puritans,  whose  excellencies  and 
defects  he  at  once  exemplified.  His  habit  of  close  and  careful  obser¬ 
vation,  both  upon  moral  and  physical  objects,  and  self-acquired  way 
of  reasoning  upon  them,  made  him  in  many  respects  a  wise  man. 
But  he  was  rather  diffident  of  himself,  and  stated  his  opinions  and 
conclusions  with  much  caution.  His  reading  was  chiefly  that  of  the 
practical  religion  of  the  seventeenth  century.  I  believe  his  personal 
attention  to  religion  was  excited  by  the  preaching  of  Wliitefield.  In 
person,  he  was  tall  and  spare,  and  in  health  rather  delicate,  and  became 
accustomed  to  regulate  his  diet  and  clothing  with  much  care.  Yet 
he  lived  to  75,  and  then  died  of  accidental  small-pox.  His  second 
son,  Samuel,  was  in  many  respects  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
men  I  ever  knew,  yet  he  has  left  nothing  behind  him  which  will  at 
all  do  him  justice.  He  will  live  a  little  longer  in  the  love  and  admi¬ 
ration  of  all  the  good  and  wise  of  his  acquaintance  who  survive,  and 
then  the  memory  of  him  will  be  lost  to  all  human  view,  like  that  of 
the  vast  multitude  of  men  to  whom  God  has  given  extraordinary 
powers,  and  who  shine  awhile  and  then  are  extinguished  for  ever. 
I  should  shrink  from  any  attempt  to  write  his  character ;  but  will 
try  to  throw  in  a  few  detached  remarks  to  give  some  idea  of  him. 
The  portrait  of  him  which  you  see  in  the  drawing-room  is  a  copy  by 
Trumbull,  taken  about  1825,  from  a  portrait  in  possession  of  James 
Watson,  which  original  Trumbull  had  taken  for  Watson  as  early  as 
1794.  If  the  family  of  Mr.  Watson  ever  sell  that  original,  it  ought 
to  be  obtained,  first,  by  Hopkins  McCracken,  the  only  living  descend- 


4 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


ant  of  my  uncle,  and  in  default  of  him  by  some  of  you.  You  will 
see  in  the  portrait  a  head  and  face,  which  I  think  is  hardly  excelled 
by  the  superlative  beauty  of  Milton’s.  The  intense  glare  of  that  eye, 
which  you  observe  in  the  portrait,  was  the  true  interpreter  of  a  mind 
immersed  in  intense  thought.  The  whole  cast  of  his  mind  and  there¬ 
fore  of  his  conversation  was  in  the  highest  degree  bold,  strong,  ori«- 
inal ;  and  his  thoughts  were  very  often  uttered  in  nervous  and 
concise  figures  of  speech,  entirely  peculiar  to  himself  and  full  of 
instruction  and  light.  The  habits  of  society  had  not  then  reached 
that  discipline  and  pretended  polish,  which  at  this  day  would  sup¬ 
press  or  much  limit  that  style.  But  I  think  that  his  peculiar  faculty 
was  the  intuitive  and  almost  instantaneous  perception  of  truth. 
Anecdotes  of  his  extraordinary  sagacity  are  still  repeated  with  admi¬ 
ration  among  his  surviving  friends  and  by  patients,  some  of  whom, 
now  nearly  thirty  years  after  his  death,  still  delight  to  tell  how  he 
saved  their  lives,  and  that  by  means  most  extraordinary.  While  I 
write  this,  I  have  in  mind,  as  an  example  which  you  know,  that  of  a 
venerable  lady  who  was  subject  to  bleeding  from  the  lungs.  She 
had  been  under  the  care  of  a  physician,  who  according  to  all  known 
good  practice  had  stopped  the  hemorrhage,  and  supposed,  as  all  oth¬ 
ers  did,  that  he  had  saved  her  life.  But  as  she  continued  very  ill, 
my  uncle,  who  intimately  knew  her  constitution,  was  sent  for.  His 
first  measure  was  to  set  the  lungs  bleeding  again,  and  she  is  yet  alive. 
I  presume  the  world  never  saw  bolder  practice ;  and  woe  to  the  phy¬ 
sician  who,  with  less  sagacity  than  his,  shall  dare  to  imitate  it.  He 
was  called  too  in  the  night  (sleeping  soundly  from  fatigue  and 

exhaustion)  to  rise  and  visit  his  particular  friend,  Dr.  B - ,  who 

was  said  “  to  be  dying  with  the  colic.”  “  He  hasn’t  got  the  colic,” 
said  he,  half  asleep  and  half  awake,  while  dressing.  When  he 
arrived  the  patient  was  already  surrounded  by  other  physicians,  who 
stood  aghast  but  presumed  not  to  murmur  as  they  saw  him  begin  to 
ply  the  sufferer  with  tremendous  stimulants,  internal  and  external. 
It  was  a  repelled  or  wandering  rheumatism,  and  any  treatment  for 
colic  would  have  killed  the  man.  All  this  he  had  foreseen  and 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


5 


understood  before  the  attendants  could  believe  that  he  was  awake. 
When  the  stricture  was  removed  from  the  bowels  to  a  limb,  he 
reproached  his  friend,  Dr.  B.:  “Did  I  not  tell  you  that  that  wander¬ 
ing  rheumatism  would  kill  you,  unless  you  took  care  of  yourself  Vy 
The  cooling  treatment  in  fevers,  the  puerperal  especially ;  and  wine 
in  fevers  since  called  typhus,  1  believe,  were  then  thought  madness ; 
but  his  patients  got  well.  Some  such  cases  were  the  subject  of  much 
newspaper  discussion. 

The  intuitive  discernment  of  truth  was  not  confined  to  professional 
matters.  I  remember  instances  which  related  to  subjects  very  for¬ 
eign  to  his  usual  studies ;  one  even  in  relation  to  the  operation  of 
the  judicial’}'  in  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  lately  adopted. 
His  writings  were  almost  always  occasional,  and  generally  humorous 
and  satirical.  On  a  review  of  them,  they  seem  to  lose  so  much  of 
their  force  and  point  by  the  change  of  times  and  things,  that  I 
scarcely  think  they  ought  in  justice  to  him  to  be  published,  lie 
removed  from  Litchfield  to  Hartford  about  1784.  Soon  after  this, 
and  until  1789,  the  attention  of  all  intelligent  and  good  men  became 
deeply  engrossed  by  the  great  question  of  an  efficient  Federal  Union. 
The  timid,  the  less  informed  and  jealous,  were  fearful  of  delegating 
great  powers  which  might,  they  feared,  be  used  against  public  liberty. 
But  more  than  all  this  was  the  rivalry  of  little  great  men  and  second- 
rate  politicians,  who  foresaw  that  their  petty  importance  would  be 
obscured  by  the  power  of  real  talent,  which  must  be  brought  into 
action  to  support  the  general  government.  To  bring  the  mass  of 
the  people  to  right  views  and  decided  action  on  this  point  required  a 
power  of  persuasion  and  instruction  and  a  mass  of  talent,  such  as,  I 
presume,  was  never  before  nor  since  exerted  before  any  people. 

At  that  time  there  resided  in  Hartford,  John  Trumbull,  author  of 
McFingal;  Col.  David  Humphries,  Oliver  Wolcott,  Joel  Barlow  and 
my  uncle ;  and  a  few  years  later  Theodore  Dwight,  Richard  Alsop 
and  others.  The  first  set  of  these  made  an  informal  club,  meeting 
often,  and  by  joint  effort  furnishing  something  in  every  possible 
style  of  writing,  calculated  to  convince  and  pursuade  a  reading  and 


6 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


thinking  people;  but  much  of  all  this  was  conveyed  in  the  form  of 
tale,  fable,  mock  heroics  and  irony;  and  much  that  is  now  lost  forever, 
was  I  conceive,  in  a  spirit  of  humor  and  good  sense,  not  inferior  to 
that  of  the  age  of  Swift  and  Arbuthnot.  I  remember  a  plan  for  a 
legislative  body,  to  be  composed  of  old  women  only.  Then  they  got 
up  a  heroic  poem,  called  the  Anarchiad,  supposed  to  have  been  dis¬ 
covered  among  the  ancient  works  at  Marietta  and  more  ancient  than 
Homer,  from  which  he  and  all  subsequent  poets  had  borrowed 
unblushingly.  The  plot  of  the  poem  was  the  final  reduction  of 
human  institutions  and  all  else  to  their  original  chaos.  The  leading 
demagogues  of  the  day  were  made  to  figure  as  the  agents  and  gen¬ 
erals  of  the  grand  march ;  and  the  speeches  and  scenes  of  the  ancient 
poets,  but  above  all,  of  Milton’s  infernal  legion  and  nether  world, 
were  parodied  and  travestied  with  inexpressible  gravity,  always 
noting  the  flagrant  plagiarisms  of  Homer,  Virgil,  Milton  &  Company. 
I  remember  the  plan  of  some  games  instituted  by  the  Anarch,  in 
which  the  first  prize  was  awarded  to  the  chief  who  could  see  the 
farthest  into  total  darkness,  and  in  which  all  the  leading  popular 
factionists  of  the  day  were  made  to  contend.  But  it  was  not  humor 
alone.  Ancient  History  was  ransacked  and  contributed  its  share, 
and  all  the  resources  of  reason  were  called  forth,  aided  by  a  spirit  of 
the  deepest  feeling  for  the  unparalleled  interests  then  at  stake. 
Talent  and  the  love  of  country,  and  a  feeling  of  deep  concern  for 
the  good  of  mankind,  in  that  instance  presided.  Oh !  that  it  might 
ever  be  so. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  on  this  subject  because  it  will  disclose 
to  you  a  fact  which  history — false,  superficial,  partisan,  vulgar — will 
never  tell  to  posterity.  It  is  indeed  sometimes  told  that  the  war  of 
the  Revolution  was  not  to  repel  oppression  felt,  but  foreseen.  But 
the  Federal  Constitution  was  a  much  greater  effort  of  just  discern¬ 
ment  in  a  whole  people ;  and  it  required  a  much  greater  sacrifice  of 
old  habits,  of  local  interests,  fears  and  jealousies,  and  a  much  wiser 
foresight  of  impending  dangers.  This  was  mainly  accomplished  by 
the  pens  of  that  vast  corps  of  very  able  men  scattered  throughout 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


7 


the  country,  and  which  that  age  produced  so  fruitfully.  But  what 
idea  does  it  give  of  the  American  people  as  they  were  fifty  years 
ago !  This,  however,  is  what  history  will  never  explain,  because  the 
writers  will  never  know  it. 

I  add  but  a  word  more  of  my  uncle.  He  was  kind,  humane,  most 
sincerely  disinterested,  so  that  he  laid  up  but  little  property  from  a 
practice  so  immense  that  cases  were  sent  to  him  in  writing,  for  con¬ 
sultation,  from  distant  states.  His  devotion  to  his  patients  was 
unbounded,  and  he  always  contended  to  the  very  last  against  the 
King  of  Terrors.  He  even  rode  in  bad  weather  to  see  the  sick, 
when  it  was  said  that  he  was  less  able  than  they  to  go  out,  and  when 
he  knew  (who  always  watched  and  understood  the  progress  of  the 
consumption  in  his  own  lungs)  that  himself  could  not  last  long. 
Among  the  multitude  of  patients  who  came  to  consult  him,  were 
many  of  the  intemperate.  There  was  generally  no  hope  for  them, 
and  when  they  retired  I  well  remember  how  he  would  turn  to  his 
pupils  and  lecture  from  their  cases.  These  were  the  scenes  which 
made  me  at  the  age  of  fourteen  form  my  vow  or  resolution  of  per¬ 
fect  temperance. 

Of  my  father,  I  shall  say  less.  He  was  a  farmer.  Of  all  the  men 
I  ever  saw  he  was  the  most  truly  just,  impartial,  and  disinterested. 
He  was  ingenious,  laborious  and  persevering ;  unsparing  of  himself, 
and  sparing  of  the  labors  and  sufferings  of  all  other  creatures,  brute 
and  human,  and  most  kindly  affectioned  towards  all  that  could  think 
or  feel.  I  can  now  recollect  single  expressions  of  his  to  me  in  boy¬ 
hood,  which  taught  me  lessons  of  justice  and  humanity  that,  I  hope, 
have  influenced  me  through  life.  Hot  having  much  time  for  read¬ 
ing,  he  was  thrown  back  upon  himself  for  topics  to  engage  his  ever 
active  mind.  And,  as  moral  and  metaphysical  speculations  are  those 
which  can  be  best  prosecuted  out  of  the  closet  and  in  the  midst  of 
laborious  occupations,  so  he  dwelt  much  upon  them.  He  had  found 
time,  however,  to  read  nearly  all  of  value  that  had  been  written  on 
mental  philosophy.  He  understood  Locke,  Hume,  and  Edwards, 
•and  could  repeat  Pope’s  Essay  on  Man,  I  believe,  nearly  every  line 


s 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


by  rote,  and  this  too  without  ever  intending  to  learn  it  hy  memory. 
He  had  also  read  much  of  the  best  old  English  divines — Tillotson, 
Sherlock,  Leeds,  and  others  whom  I  have  forgotten.  How  he  found 
time  to  read  them  I  cannot  imagine ;  hut  once  reading  was  enough, 
for  he  forgot  nothing  of  importance  which  he  had  ever  known, 
besides  all  the  thoughts  of  importance  he  incorporated  into  his  own 
mass.  It  is  my  opinion  that  his  speculations,  if  reduced  to  writing, 
would  have  made  some  clear  addition  to  all  that  has  been  before 
written  on  heads  of  metaphysical  inquiry.  Indeed,  he  was  desired 
by  me  and  some  other  of  his  friends  to  reduce  his  views  to  writing, 
but  his  engagements  prevented  it.  In  his  advanced  years,  when  he 
had  removed  near  me  on  the  Genesee  river,  I  engaged  him  in  occa¬ 
sional  conversations  in  order  to  obtain  some  of  his  ideas  more  accu¬ 
rately  ;  and  I  think  I  comprehended  him  on  some  points ;  on  others, 
I  recollected  them  from  my  youth.  I  may  possibly  attempt  to  give 
some  sketch  of  the  whole.  I  never  have  heard  him  on  these  sub¬ 
jects  without  being  struck  by  some  idea  that  was  new  to  me,  and 
this  makes  me  apprehend  that  many  very  valuable  thoughts  have 
died  with  him.  In  the  practical  concerns  of  life,  he  had  much  of 
the  quick  and  intuitive  perception  of  truth  wdiich  I  have  mentioned 
in  the  case  of  my  uncle.  He  would  see  the  right  way  of  doing  a 
thing,  and  see  it  instantly.  At  Goshen  they  were  building  a  steeple 
to  the  church,  the  spire  of  which  was  finished  below,  and  was  to  be 
raised  by  machinery  and  placed  on  the  square  part  of  the  tower. 
When  raised  nearly  to  its  place,  a  gin  gave  way  in  such  a  manner 
that  the  spire  swung  out  of  the  right  direction  and  hung  leaning 
over,  while  its  great  weight  and  unequal  pressure  was  thrown  upon 
some  braces,  which  were  yielding  and  breaking  gradually.  It  seemed 
alike  fatal  to  the  workmen  to  fly  or  stay,  and  consternation  seized 
the  multitude,  while  the  impending  mass  threatened  ruin,  and  the 
master  builder  was  without  resource.  The  most  appalling  circum¬ 
stance  was  that  there  were  several  men  so  placed  that  they  could  not 
be  extricated,  and  if  the  mass  fell  they  must  fall  with  it.  At  this 
moment  of  horror,  my  father  saw  where  he  could  attach  a  chain  so- 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


9 


as  to  secure  the  works  from  further  pressure  in  the  wrong  direction 
and  probably  prevent  the  fall.  He  seized  an  ox  chain,  wound  it 
round  his  neck  and  shoulders,  and  mounted  rapidly  to  the  scene  of 
danger,  regardless  of  the  calls  of  his  friends,  whose  attention  was 
now  engrossed  by  the  awful  danger  of  his  enterprise.  He  attached 
the  chain  in  such  a  manner  as  to  save  the  crushing  braces  and  all 
was  made  safe. 

My  father  and  mother  professed  their  faith  in  Christ  before  my 
remembrance,  and  were  members  of  the  Presbyterian  church.  In 
the  time  of  my  youth,  difficulties  arose  in  the  church  at  Goshen, 
owing  to  the  overbearing  and  intemperate  conduct  of  the  minister, 
who  was  supported  by  a  small  majority  of  the  church,  but  con¬ 
demned  by  the  opinion  of  councils  and  other  ministers  and 
churches.  Those  subjects  were  agitated  with  intense  eagerness  for 
years,  during  much  of  which  time  my  father  was  excluded  from 
church  ordinances.  When  the  excitement  was  over,  and  reason  and 
charity,  I  hope,  resumed  their  sway,  the  church  rescinded  all  their 
measures,  and  restored  my  father,  without  any  concessions  whatever 
from  him,  to  his  right  of  membership. 

I  was  born  at  Salem  in  Waterbury,  Hew  Haven  Co.,  Connecticut, 
on  the  9  th  of  May,  1772,  at  a  house  on  the  Hopkins  farm,  a  place 
about  a  quarter  or  half  a  mile  south  from  the  principal  dwelling,  and 
which  he  now  inhabited,  as  his  father  and  perhaps  his  grandfather 
had  before  him.  I  mention  it  on  account  of  a  tradition,  which  I 
imperfectly  remember,  to  this  effect.  My  grandfather’s  oldest 
brother,  John,  was  to  have  removed  to  some  far  distant  place  (Stock- 
bridge,  I  suspect),  but  going  there  he  found  danger  from  the  Indi¬ 
ans,  and  so  returned  and  lived  in  this  house  (which  my  grandfather 
did  or  was  to  occupy).  This  great-uncle  John  I  remember.  I  have 
therefore  seen  a  man  who,  in  effect,  was  driven  back  by  fear  of  the 
Indians  to  within  fourteen  miles  of  Hew  Haven.  In  1826  I  visited 
the  old  Hopkins  place.  I  had  before  seen  it  at  the  age  of  16,  and 
before  that  at  about  9  years  old.  Ho  change  except  the  slow  work¬ 
ings  of  time  upon  wooden  buildings  a  century  old !  But  the  grape- 


10 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


vine  was  gone  and  the  vast  apple  and  pear  trees  rotting  down  with 
age.  I  remember  a  scene  which  must  have  happened  at  the  house 
where  I  was  horn,  which  must  have  been  in  April,  1774,  when  I  was 
23  months  old.  I  was  in  petticoats  and  was  mortified  about  it. 
Memory  now  presents  to  my  view  that  house,  the  dooryard  and  the 
stone  foundation  and  embankment  as  they  then  were,  and  when 
more  than  fifty  years  after  I  saw  the  same  place  I  found  the  same 
picture  was  entirely  faithful. 

About  May,  1774,  my  father  removed  to  Goshen  and  in  June  fol¬ 
lowing,  being  25  months  old,  I  received  a  bad  cut  in  my  foot.  I 
vividly  and  distinctly  remember  several  facts  about  it,  and  such 
peculiarly  as  a  child  would  be  struck  with.  But  I  never  have 
remembered  the  cut  itself !  Being  the  oldest  grandchild,  nephew, 
&c.,  on  both  sides,  I  was  in  much  request  and  often  sent  for,  to  and 
from  Salem.  I  must  have  been  at  the  latter  in  the  fall  of  1777,  for 
I  well  remember  my  grandmother’s  reading  much  in  the  papers 
r  Gmt  Ty,  for  so  the  name  of  Ticonderoga  was  written  and  printed 
+or  brevity ;  and  I  remember  feeling  a  sentiment  of  peevish  dislike 
at  the  frequent  repetition  of  the  senseless  sound.  From  that  time 
my  recollection  furnishes  a  good  many  pictures  of  men  and  things 
pertaining  to  Revolutionary  times.  Hence  my  frequent  remark  that 
perhaps  the  period  of  my  life  embraces,  up  to  this  time,  the  most 
interesting  period  of  sixty  years  in  civil  history  that  has  yet  occur¬ 
red.  I  remember  something  of  the  young  men  hurrying  off  to  meet 
Burgoyne,  the  deep  and  anxious  solicitude  with  which  my  father 
and  his  neighbors  would  talk  of  public  affairs.  I  remember  my 
father  being  absent  with  the  militia  who  marched  in  defence  of  New 
York  in  1776,  when  I  was  a  few  months  more  than  four  years  old. 
I  very  well  remember  the  rejoicings  at  the  capture  of  Cornwallis. 
I  have  seen  General  Washington,  been  a  little  acquainted  with  the 
elder  Adams,  and  with  Jay,  Schuyler,  Clinton,  Pickering ;  have  been 
a  good  deal  acquainted  with  Charles  Cotesworth  Pinckney  and  John 
Marshall ;  and  have  been  conversant  in  business  of  the  bar  with  that 
very  extraordinary  man  Aaron  Burr,  and  that  very  admirable  and 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


11 


wonderful  man  Alexander  Hamilton.  If,  then,  we  add  that  the 
entire  history  of  the  Federal  Constitution  and  the  entire  revolutions 
of  Europe  from  1789  come  within  my  fresh  recollections,  you  will 
admit  that  we  must  look  forward  and  not  backwards  for  a  more 
important  period  in  temporal  affairs. 

I  remember  some  of  the  pangs  of  a  little  child  sent  to  school  and 
condemned  to  sit  in  total  inaction  of  body  and  mind  for  six  hours  a 
day.  Then  the  horrors  of  being  compelled  to  commit  to  memory 
unintelligible  jargon.  “  What  is  the  chief  end  of  man  ?”  “  What 

are  the  decrees  of  God?”  “What  is  grammar?”  Look  at  and 
recall  the  answer  to  the  second  question,  and  imagine  the  cruelty  of 
putting  a  child  of  five  or  six  years  old  to  commit  it  to  memory !  The 
imperfect  recollection  now  and  then  flits  across  my  mind  with  feelings 
of  indescribable  sadness.  How  happy  am  I,  then,  to  live  in  an  age 
when  the  sunny  morning  of  lovely  infancy  is  not  clouded  by  suffer¬ 
ings  of  this  kind  !  I  suspect  that  much  of  the  irreligion  which  per¬ 
vaded  in  the  times  of  our  admirable  Puritanical  ancestors  had 
foundation  in  the  disgust  which  was  caused  by  injudicious  and  ex¬ 
pulsive  teaching.  By  10  or  11, 1  had  well  recovered  from  all  disliK<. 
of  the  school.  I  had  thoroughly  studied  the  old  system  of  Geogra¬ 
phy  (Salmon’s)  which  preceded  Guthrie ;  and  I  devoured  Robinson 
Crusoe  and  Voltaire’s  History  of  Charles  XII.,  and  it  was  decided 
that  I  must  have  an  education,  if  possible. 

In  the  winter  of  1781  I  was  sent  to  live  in  the  family  of  Eli 
Curtis,  Esq.,  of  Watertown,  and  to  go  to  school.  Mrs.  Curtis  was 
daughter  of  my  father’s  uncle  John,  before  mentioned.  In  1781  I 
went  to  live  in  the  family  of  my  uncle,  Dr.  Lemuel  Hopkins  of  Hart¬ 
ford,  where  I  continued  most  of  the  time  for  four  years.  There  I 
laid  the  foundation  of  what  classical  knowledge  I  have,  at  the  Free 
Grammar  School,  and  under  the  excellent  instruction  of  Mr.  Solomon 
Porter.  It  seemed  a  matter  of  course  that  I  should  be  a  physician  ; 
and  I  perceived,  in  after  years,  that  my  uncle,  who  had  no  son,  had 
looked  forward  to  me  as  a  possible  associate  in  future  practice.  In 
1786  I  gave  myself  wholly  to  Anatomy,  Physiology  and  Medicine. 


12 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


I  read  Clieselden,  Winslow,  Ilaller,  Hunter,  Boorkaave,  Yan 
Sweeter  (18  vols.)  and  Cullen,  and  I  wrote  abstracts  and  treatises, 
and  began  to  lay  up  written  treasures  of  curious  facts.  But  it  was 
decided  that  I  was  to  go  to  college,  chiefly  on  the  motion  of  my 
grandmother. 

On  commencement  day,  1787,  I  left  the  farm  work  (at  which, 
during  haying  and  harvest,  I  had  helped  my  father),  and  took  my 
classical  books,  which  for  a  year  had  been  neglected.  I  was  to  enter 
the  Sophomore  class,  and  I  had  six  weeks  to  revise  all  the  studies 
preparatory  to  the  Freshman  year  and  to  get,  for  the  first  time,  a 
large  portion  of  those  for  that  year  also.  I  had  got  an  idea  that  I 
could  do  anything.  So,  in  that  time,  I  read  all  Virgil,  a  good  many 
orations  of  Tully,  all  of  the  Greek  Testament,  the  greater  part  of 
Horace,  and  revised  my  Arithmetic,  Geography,  &c.  Those  were 
days  at  once  of  delight  and  sadness  to  my  dear  mother,  for  she  fore¬ 
saw  that  my  course  in  life  would  lead  me  far  from  her,  and  that  it 
would  be  but  a  few  weeks  that  she  could  ever  again  see  me  near  to 
her,  to  know  that  I  was  in  health,  and  to  nurse  me,  and  to  read  to 
me  when  I  had  a  cold. 

I  passed  three  years  at  Hew  Haven, — ardent,  intensely  studious, 
factious,  infidel,  self-opinionated,  loving  my  friends  devotedly  and 
beloved  by  them.  I  scarcely  doubted  but  I  was  to  accomplish  some 
great  thing  upon  the  earth.  By  the  diligent  improvement  of  time  I 
laid  in  a  stock  of  knowledge  upon  many  subjects,  particularly  His¬ 
tory,  for  the  study  of  which  I  have  had  no  other  opportunity.  The 
spirit  of  Yale  College  was,  at  that  time,  a  spirit  of  literary  ambition 
and  of  infidelity.  But  I  must  not  enlarge  upon  these  scenes,  nor 
trust  my  pen  to  begin  to  talk  of  friends,  who  with  me  are  soon 
to  quit  the  world,  when  the  memory  of  us  and  all  that  concerns  us, 
will  be  like  the  memory  of  the  youth  who  lived  before  the  flood. 
Farewell, —  farewell!  Youth  and  the  friendship  of  youth — with  all 
its  hopes  and  dazzling  expectations — I  review  you  in  order  for  the 
last  time;  and  we  are  hastening  hence  to  stand  before  the  Judge  of 
the  whole  earth. 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


13 


I  was  not  in  good  favor  with  the  faculty,  and  took  no  pains  to 
conciliate  their  good  will.  But  they  gave  me  one  of  the  three  Eng¬ 
lish  orations  for  the  commencement  exhibition,  which  were  then 
reputed  the  highest  appointments.  I  refused  to  attend,  and  they 
refused  me  my  degree,  and  the  degree  of  LL.  D.,  which  they  con¬ 
ferred  when  Samuel  entered  college,  was  the  first  and  only  one  I 
ever  received.  Having  resolved  on  the  profession  of  law,  I  entered 
in  the  fall  of  1791  the  office  of  Judge  (then  Mr.)  Reeve,  in  Litchfield. 
His  law  school  contained  more  than  twenty  pupils,  and  was  already 
celebrated  throughout  the  Union.  He  was  altogether  an  admirable 
man,  of  a  purity,  sincerity,  guilelessness  of  heart,  such  as  I  have  seen 
in  few  men  in  this  world.  His  daily  lectures  were  most  happy,  from 
his  admirable  faculty  of  carrying  always  on,  a  view  of  the  reason  and 
history  of  every  principle.  I  have  no  doubt  but  his  lectures  are  yet 
felt  and  long  will  be,  in  their  happy  influence  upon  the  judicial 
department  of  our  country’s  public  economy.  At  a  subsequent  time, 
he  became  a  most  devoted  Christian.  Admissions  to  the  bar  were 
committed  entirely  to  the  members.  In  March,  1793,  when  I  had 
studied  only  about  eighteen  months,  the  gentlemen  of  the  bar,  most 
unexpectedly  to  me,  proffered  me  an  examination  for  admission. 
It  was  in  violation  of  a  general  rule,  and  was  a  thing  I  had  never 
imagined  possible,  nor  ever  thought  of,  until  it  was  offered. 
I  think  it  was  immediately  after  my  admission  to  the  bar  that  I 
had  the  small  pox.  The  way  then  was,  that  certain  physicians  by 
license  from  public  authority  opened  hospitals  for  that  express  and 
only  purpose.  Secluded  places  were  chosen,  on  every  avenue  to 
which  a  pole  with  a  white  flag  on  it  pointed  out  to  every  wan¬ 
derer  the  danger  of  approach.  I  escaped  by  a  surprise  upon 
my  parents,  who  supposed  I  was  attending  court  until  they 
heard  that  the  disorder  had  already  passed  every  crisis  of  danger. 
Farewell  Litchfield  and  Goshen! — a  country  of  storms  and  winter 
and  frightful  cold  and  snow,  and  of  hardy,  active,  reading,  thinking, 
intelligent  men,  who  may  probably  be  set  forth  as  a  pattern  of  the 
finest  commonalty  upon  the  earth.  As  an  example,  take  a  glance  at 
2 


14 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


the  state  of  society  in  Goshen.  In  that  town  of  1200  people,  there 
was  no  such  thing  as  a  poor  or  dependent  family.  No  tenant;  no 
rich  man  except  a  single  merchant.  Every  farmer  tilled  his  100  or 
200  acres  of  land,  chiefly  with  the  labor  of  his  own  or  his  sons’ 
hands.  Until  I  left  Connecticut  I  never  had  seen  a  person,  male  or 
female,  of  competent  age  to  read  and  write,  who  could  not  do  both. 
In  different  parts  of  the  town  were  library  associations,  as  is  common 
in  New  England;  and  that  in  our  neighborhood  contained  the  most 
popular  English  works  of  history,  most  or  many  of  the  works  of 
Addison,  Pope,  Blair,  Beattie,  and  some  of  Johnson,  Hume,  &c.; 
and  they  were  much  read.  I  have  attended  an  election  there,  and 
the  order  and  decorum  were  not  less  than  appears  in  divine  service. 
No  such  thing  as  party  was  perceptible,  even  if  there  was  some  feel¬ 
ing  of  it.  The  man  who  should  in  any  way,  direct  or  indirect,  by 
himself  or  by  his  friends,  have  intimated  a  desire  for  office,  would  by 
that  mere  fact  lose  it.  I  remember  hearing  my  father  say  of  such  a 
man  that  “  he  shook  hands  rather  too  much,”  and  seemed  to  be 
fishing  for  popularity.  If  he  had  not  shaken  hands  so  much,  my 
father  might  have  voted  for  him.  These  habits  produced  a  wise, 
just,  and  stable  government,  and  a  most  perfect  obedience  to  the 
laws.  The  admirable  form  of  the  old  Constitution  of  Connecticut 
was  adapted  to  bring  men  slowly  forward  into  public  life,  and  to 
keep  them  much  under  public  view.  When  long  approved,  they 
held  their  seats  very  firmly ;  and  the  Upper  House  (Senate)  of  that 
State  has  at  times  braced  itself  against  the  whole  of  the  public  opin¬ 
ion  and  of  the  popular  branch,  and  defeated  an  unwise  but  momen¬ 
tarily  popular  measure.  It  contained  but  twelve  men.  My  great 
uncle,  Joseph  Hopkins,  of  Waterbury,  was  elected  member  of  the 
Legislature,  I  think,  about  seventy  successive  times ;  that  is,  twice  a 
year  for  upwards  of  thirty-five  successive  years.  George  Wyllis,  of 
Hartford,  the  third  of  that  family,  who  was  Secretary  of  State,  was 
elected  to  that  office  by  the  Governor  and  Council  or  by  the  Legisla¬ 
ture,  a  little  before  he  was  21  years  of  age,  on  the  death  of  his  father. 
But  the  election  of  a  Secretary  of  State  belonged  to  the  people, 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


15 


except  in  the  case  of  a  vacancy  ad  interim.  The  people  then,  by  a 
general  vote  of  the  whole  State,  elected  him  to  the  same  office  sixty, 
or  one  or  two  more  than  sixty,  successive  years,  and  he  died  in  office 
at  upwards  of  80.  Such  were  the  habits  of  a  people  whose  govern¬ 
ment  was  the  most  democratic  on  earth,  except  that  of  San  Marino. 
But  I  am  digressing. 

It  must,  I  think,  have  been  early  in  April  that  my  father  accom¬ 
panied  me  on  a  ride  west  across  the  tremendous  country  of  the 
Ousatonic,  and  the  fine  country  of  Dutchess  to  Poughkeepsie,  and 
there  I  put  myself  under  the  tuition  of  two  young  lawyers  of  excel¬ 
lent  reputation.  One  of  them  is  now  enough  known  to  the  world  as 
Chancellor  Kent.  Clouds  have  gathered  thick  over  the  advancing 
years  of  the  other,  Jacob  Radcliffe  ;  but  with  both  I  have  maintained 
an  unabated  friendship  of  more  than  forty  years ;  and  to  the  latter  I 
desire  to  do  so  much  justice  as  to  say  that,  as  a  lawyer,  and  while  a 
judge  of  the  Supreme  Court,  he  was,  on  the  whole,  excelled  by  no 
man  of  his  day.  My  object  was  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  prac¬ 
tice  of  the  New  York  courts,  which  then  was  thought  no  small  art 
and  mystery.  It  used  to  be  the  sole  business  of  a  three  years’  clerk¬ 
ship  in  this  State;  and  I  was  to  acquire  it  in  eighteen  days,  from 
Monday  morning  of  one  week  to  Saturday  of  the  third  week.  I  used 
to  study  perhaps  sixteen  hours  a  day,  and  pass  two  hours  more  in 
the  evening  reciting  to  those  gentlemen,  or  rather  disputing  with 
them.  I  kept  life  in  me  by  now  and  then  running  a  mile  or  two  to 
a  hill  which  overlooks  the  village. 

Accordingly,  on  Saturday  of  the  third  week  I  embarked  on  board 
the  good  sloop  John  Jay,  and  soon  saw  the  wonderful  city,  the 
compact  parts  of  which  extended  to  St.  Paul’s  Church  and  then  up 
Chatham  street  to  the  tea  water  pump  or  nearly.  I  had  letters  from 
my  uncle  Dr.  Hopkins  to  James  Watson  and  Judge  Ilobart,  and 
from  Mr.  Reeve  to  his  brother-in-law,  (since  so  celebrated  as)  Col. 
Burr.  We  were  five  of  us,  New  England  young  men,  applying  for 
admission. 

Burr  made  our  motion,  and  when  the  Court  sought  to  exclude  us 


16 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


by  an  ex  post  facto  rule,  lie  succeeded  in  exempting  us  from  its  oper¬ 
ation.  1  passed  a  most  splendid  examination,  and  have  often  since 
told  my  pupils  that,  if  on  signing  the  roll  I  had  been  desired  to  make 
out  the  most  common  process,  I  could  not  have  done  it.  My  license 
was  dated  on  the  9th  of  May,  1793,  the  day  I  was  21  years  old.  I 
was  received  with  infinite  kindness  by  the  gentlemen  to  whom  I  had 
letters.  I  told  them  I  could  no  longer  be  a  burden  to  my  father, 
and  that  I  desired  them  to  recommend  me  to  a  new  country,  where 
I  could  most  certainly  earn  $52  in  the  first  year,  since  I  could  live 
for  $1  per  week.  They  recommended  Tioga,  and  gave  me  letters. 
1  hastened  home  to  Goshen.  My  father  was  at  Hartford,  as  a  mem¬ 
ber  of  the  Legislature.  My  mother  searched  the  till  of  his  chest  and 
found,  I  think,  $10,  or  perhaps  $10.25.  With  that  and  with  a  valise 
which  contained  half  a  dozen  shirts,  a  set  of  Blackstone,  a  skin  of 
parchment,  bought  at  New  York,  and  some  black  seals,  and  on  the 
horse  Phoenix,  which  my  father  had  raised  for  me,  and  which 
Phoenix  was  the  first  in  official  order  of  all  my  line  of  Phoe¬ 
nixes,  I  bade  adieu  to  my  mother  and  dear  brothers  and  sisters 
and  took  the  road  to  an  unexplored  and  unknown  wilder¬ 
ness.  What  a  moment  for  my  mother — what  a  moment  for  me ! 
One  hundred  and  ten  miles  west  from  Catskill,  through  a  country 
almost  all  very  new,  brought  me  to  the  village  of  Oxford,  and  to  the 
house  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Hovey,  the  founder  of  it,  and  who  about 
eighteen  months  before  had  cut  the  first  tree  to  clear  the  ground 
where  this  village  stood.  Here,  too,  I  found  Uri  Tracy  (of  the  class 
in  college  two  years  older  than  myself),  and  whom  after  nearly  forty 
years  I  still  count  among  the  most  valued  of  my  friends.  Here  I 
took  up  my  residence.  Hovey  was  a  man  of  very  strong  natural 
sense  and  vigor  in  action,  but  of  very  little  education.  He  had  been 
unfortunate  in  Massachusetts ;  his  family  had  preserved  life  in  this 
wilderness  for  some  days  by  eating  the  grain  from  the  ear  in  the 
unripe  state.  Suddenly  he  started  for  New  York,  laid  open  plans 
for  the  settlement  of  lands  to  the  proprietors  whom  he  found.  He 
was  taken  up  by  old  Gov.  Clinton  and  his  friends  and  admitted  to 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


17 


shares  in  their  plans  and  speculations,  built  Oxford  on  his  own  land, 
became  the  leading  man  of  a  very  growing  country,  possessed  a 
great  deal  of  property,  relapsed  into  habits  of  intemperance — lost 
all;  finally  left  his  family  and  died  in  obscurity  far  West.  This  is 
the  history  of  a  great  class  of  men. 

I  settled  at  Oxford  as  a  lawyer.  My  first  law-draft  I  made  by 
writing  on  the  head  of  a  barrel,  under  a  roof  made  of  poles  only,  and 
in  the  rain,  which  I  partially  kept  from  spattering  my  paper  by  a 
broad  brimmed  hat.  In  such  a  village  as  this,  the  first  or  second 
framed  building  was  an  academy  of  two  stories,  and  Mr.  Tracy  was 
the  teacher.  No  Yankees  without  the  means  of  education  !  Judge 
Hobart,  my  friend  and  patron,  was  to  hold  the  circuit  in  June  at 
Owego ;  and  his  kind  notice  of  me  was  an  excellent  introduction  to 
the  county.  The  first  case  I  ever  tried  was  in  defending  a  man 
indicted  for  forgery,  which  was  death,  and  on  which  the  attorney 
general  of  the  State  in  person  supported  the  prosecution.  Judge 
Hobart  sustained  the  objection  I  took,  and  the  prisoner  was  acquitted. 
And  in  this  country  I  rode  80  miles  to  Newtown  (Elmira)  to  attend 
a  Court  of  Common  Pleas  in  my  own  county,  and  was  too  happy  to 
win  a  jury  cause  and  get  a  fee  of  $8,  perhaps  the  most  gratifying  I 
ever  received.  Sometimes  I  rode  all  day  in  the  rain,  forded  the 
swift  flowing  Chenango  in  water  up  to  my  horse’s  back,  found  my 
whole  library  and  stationery  wet  by  the  operation  and  lost  my  way 
in  returning  up  the  river,  the  path — not  road— being  too  blind  to 
follow.  In  attempting  to  follow  the  Nanticoke  in  a  freshet  I  was 
obliged  to  go  in  a  canoe  and  forcing  Phoenix  into  the  river,  to  lead 
him  swimming  while  the  ferryman  directed  the  canoe.  But  how 
wonderful  is  instinct !  The  horse  had  never  swam  before,  yet  when 
he  felt  the  force  of  the  torrent,  he  breasted  the  stream,  and  dreading 
to  be  swept  downwards  he  carried  the  whole  of  us  up  stream  so  far 
above  the  landing  place,  that  the  horse  became  entangled  in  floating- 
tree  tops  and  that  I  came  near  losing  him.  At  another  time  I  rode 
west  to  Cincinnatus,  where  at  18  miles  wras  a  house,  north  18  miles  far¬ 
ther  off  was  another  house,  but  in  utter  darkness  at  night  I  lost  my 


IS 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


way  and  passed  the  night  in  one  of  the  most  incessant,  steady,  pouring 
rains  I  ever  knew.  I  visited  Onondaga  when  but  two  white  families 
were  in  the  “  hollow,”  and  attempted  a  rude  estimate  of  the  weight  of 
the  water  of  the  salt  spring,  when  not  as  many  as  a  dozen  of  the  ket¬ 
tles  were  in  operation  or  ever  had  been.  My  name  is  first  on  the 
roll  of  attorneys  in  Cayuga.  I  visited  my  friends  at  Goshen,  and  was 
visited  by  my  aged  grandfather  at  Oxford. 

I  became  convinced  that  I  could  grow  up  in  the  country  and 
become  as  rich  as  I  wished.  Col.  Burr  had,  almost  by  force,  made 
me  receive  a  library  of  choice  law  books,  which  he  selected,  saying 
that  “  I  might  settle  it  in  my  will,”  if  I  pleased.  But  Mr.  Watson 
suggested  the  idea  of  a  removal  to  .New  York  for  the  sake  of  the 
society  of  able  men,  of  mental  improvement,  and  of  professional 
advancement.  He  afterwards  invited  me  to  his  house,  imported  for 
me  about  $1500  of  law  books,  the  foundation  of  my  present  law 
library.  He  loaned  me  whatever  money  I  had  occasion  for,  and  left 
me  to  pay  it  (as  I  did)  years  after,  from  the  avails  of  my  professional 
business. 

I  went  to  Hew  York  in  the  fall  or  winter  of  1794  and  took  up  my 
lodgings  in  the  princely  and  hospitable  house  of  Mr.  Watson,  quit¬ 
ting  with  a  good  deal  of  regret  my  Oxford  friends,  my  village  half 
acre  and  charming  new  office,  and  taking  Phoenix  back  to  my  father, 
under  the  promise  that  he  should  be  well  and  kindly  kept  as  long  as 
he  could  live.  He  lived  more  than  twenty  years  afterwards.  The 
winter  of  179P-5  I  employed  in  very  intense  study  for  counsel’s 
examination.  But  in  the  course  of  that  time  Mr.  Watson  began  to 
propose  to  me  the  project,  which  occupied  my  time  afterwards  for 
two  years  in  Virginia  and  two  in  Europe.  Virginia  sold  her  lands 
at  two  cents  the  acre,  and  not  only  so,  but  the  vender  had  always 
the  right  to  make  a  selection  from  all  her  unsold  lands  in  every  part 
of  the  State  at  that  price.  She  had  (and  I  suppose  has  yet)  one  pub¬ 
lic  office  at  which  were  sold  land  warrants  for  any  number  of  acres  to 
any  person.  These  the  vender  located,  by  a  vague  and  general  entry 
in  the  county  surveyor’s  office,  without  metes,  bounds,  direction  or 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


19 


limits,  and  at  his  leisure  afterwards  caused  the  location  to  be  sur¬ 
veyed  by  an  official  surveyor,  by  which  his  location  would  be  reduced 
to  certainty  and  recorded.  Hence  surveys  and  locations  were  inter¬ 
mixed  in  every  portion  of  the  State,  of  every  imaginable  form,  size 
and  number,  filed  on  each  other  and  intermixed,  surrounded  and 
being  surrounded  by  each  other.  Hence  in  Virginia  and  Kentucky 
there  arose  a  confusion  in  original  titles,  which  it  cost  a  long  series 
of  years,  with  statutes  of  limitations  to  adjust,  and  which  were  often 
finally  quieted  only  because  the  parties  were  exhausted  by  conten¬ 
tion.  But  the  worst  consequence  is  of  eternal  duration.  It  is  the 
want  of  all  regular  decisions  for  the  purposes  of  social  organization, 
intercourse  and  action.  The  method  of  laying  out  a  country  by 
geometrical  lines,  which  after  the  times  of  the  Pharaohs  was  first 
practiced  in  Hew  England,  and  thence  transferred  in  more  perfec¬ 
tion  to  the  more  regular  surface  of  Hew  York  and  to  all  the  new 
lands  of  the  United  States,  is  an  advance  of  inestimable  value  in  the 
means  of  social  economy ;  and  it  is  for  the  sake  of  this  remark  that  I 
have  made  this  digression.  A  single  conception  of  a  single  mind,  in 
a  matter  not  then  perceived  to  be  very  important,  but  by  which  a 
thing  is  done  in  the  best,  instead  of  the  worst,  way,  and  order  substi¬ 
tuted  for  chaotic  confusion,  may  happen  to  exercise  an  extensive 
influence  upon  the  well  being  of  mankind  for  indefinite  ages. 

Upon  the  establishment  of  the  Federal  Constitution,  capital  and 
credit  and  commerce  had  sprung  up  in  this  country  as  if  by  enchant¬ 
ment.  It  was  perceived  that  our  lands  had  actual  value,  and  that 
an  increasing  population  would  soon  occupy  them,  and  in  view  of 
the  present  and  approaching  convulsions  in  Europe,  it  was  thought 
no  unreasonable  expectation  that  persons  of  fortune  there  would  be 
disposed  to  lay  aside  something  in  the  safest  of  all  depositaries  and 
at  an  accumulating  value.  These  Virginia  lands,  already  surveyed, 
were  offered  in  Hew  York  at  4  cents  the  acre.  But  they  might  be 
wholly  worthless,  or  the  titles  might  be  bad  or  doubtful.  Mr.  Wat¬ 
son  observed  to  me  that  he  had  capital ;  that  I  had  health,  youth  and 
activity,  and  law  knowledge  enough  to  investigate  titles.  He  devised 


20 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


an  operation,  for  joint  and  equal  benefit,  to  be  predicated  on  my 
personal  investigations,  and  to  be  effected  by  purchases  in  Virginia 
if  found  safe  and  advantageous,  and  by  sales  in  Europe.  1  have 
always  supposed  that  his  inducement  was  not  so  much  his  own 
advantage,  as  the  hope  of  giving  me  a  competence  without  my  wast¬ 
ing  a  life  in  professional  labor.  I  gratefully  acceded  to  his  offer,  and 
on  the  13th  of  May,  1795,  set  out  for  Virginia,  with  letters  of  credit 
and  of  recommendation,  and  on  the  27th  I  arrived  at  Richmond. 
My  letters  brought  me  to  the  acquaintance  of  John  Hopkins,  since 
deceased,  a  most  estimable  man,  and  who  for  thirty  years  was  my 
friend,  and  by  his  advice  I  applied  for  legal  directions  to  a  gen¬ 
tleman  then  rising  in  distinction — John  Marshall.  From  Richmond 
I  rode  on  horseback  to  Botetourt  and  Montgomery  counties,  being 
abundantly  supplied  with  letters  to  many  respectable  gentlemen  by  Mr. 
Hopkins,  General  Henry  Lee,  Col.  Covington,  and  several  other  gen¬ 
tlemen.  I  made  a  station  at  Col.  Cloyd’s  of  Montgomery,  whose  son 
Gordon  Cloyd  was  county  surveyor.  On  the  20th  June,  having  se¬ 
cured  the  services  of  two  good  woodsmen  and  hunters,  and  loaded  a 
pack  horse  with  flour  and  bacon,  I  set  out  for  a  jaunt  into  the  wilder¬ 
ness  to  explore  some  of  the  great  tracts  of  land  which  had  been  offered, 
as  well  as  to  examine  personally  the  nature  of  the  country  generally.. 
We  were  in  the  woods  twenty-two  days,  and  the  six  last  of  them 
without  food  or  nearly  so.  This  adventure  was  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  events  of  my  life.  How  Guyandott  suddenly  rose  and 
cut  off  our  return,  just  when  the  last  morsel,  almost,  was  eaten;  how 
we  were  driven  to  the  expedient  of  going  round  the  head  of  the  river, 
into  tremendous  mountains  with  windfalls  and  laurel  thickets ;  and 
sometimes  over  beds  of  rocks  ail  humming  with  the  buzz  of  rattle¬ 
snakes  beneath ;  how  I  became  partially  deranged  with  fatigue  and 
hunger ;  how  after  six  days  our  horse  finally  failed,  while  we  succeeded 
in  dragging  our  limbs  to  a  little  frontier  settlement  of  the  kindest 
people  on  the  earth — all  this  and  more  I  may  yet  possibly  draw  out 
from  my  journal  and  from  memory  and  give  you.  Time  forbids  it 
now,— and  I  must  hasten  to  finish  this  memorandum  already  extend¬ 
ing  much  beyond  my  expectation. 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


21 


It  was  long  before  my  constitution  could  re-establish  its  balance 
after  this  affair,  or  rather,  I  think  my  health  has  never  since  been  so 
good.  I  spent  some  weeks  at  the  Sweet  Springs  to  recruit,  and 
among  other  exercises  went  to  the  lead  mines,  near  the  border  of 
North  Carolina,  to  see  my  friend  and  cousin,  Hannah  Miles,  then 
Mrs.  Herrick.  It  was  wonderful  enough  that  a  Goshen  girl  should, 
with  her  husband,  a  Dutchman  from  the  Mohawk,  fly  to  a  mine  in 
the  Alleghany  ridge ;  but  how  odd  the  circumstance  that  business 
should  call  me,  her  friend  and  cousin,  to  the  same  place !  Late  in 
the  fall  I  made  arrangements  for  another  excursion  in  the  woods, 
towards  the  Ohio  and  near  the  Little  Kanawha.  I  was  in  the  wil¬ 
derness  about  the  same  period  as  before.  My  company  consisted  of 
surveyors  and  their  men,  Anselm  Tupper  of  Marietta  being  the  official 
surveyor.  The  excursion  was  pleasant,  though  sometimes  fatiguing, 
and  at  times  we  were  without  food.  We  killed  a  buffalo,  deer,  and 
turkeys.  We  were  cheered  with  the  music  of  wolves,  when,  at 
night,  they  scented  our  supper  but,  dreading  our  night  fire,  pealed  a 
chorus  from  hill  to  hill  all  around  us.  I  boated  the  Ohio,  ran  upon 
sand  banks  in  the  night  and  jumped  into  the  water  to  help  off  the 
ark.  After  seeing  the  poor  French  at  Galliopolis  and  treading  on 
the  soil  now  Ohio,  when  the  territory  did  not  contain  5000,  perhaps 
not  1000,  white  inhabitants,  I  returned  through  the  interior  of  the 
State  to  Richmond  and  to  New  York,  about  900  miles  on  horseback. 
The  latter  part  of  the  journey  was  a  winter  ride.  These  two  jaunts 
made  me  a  thorough  woodsman,  and  in  the  course  of  the  latter  I 
began  to  feel  that  sweet  oblivion  of  life  and  all  its  cares  and  occupa¬ 
tions  which  explains  to  me  why  it  is  that  even  white  men  when  once 
thoroughly  inured  to  savage  life,  never  desire  to  resume  the  habits 
of  civilized  society.  I  saw  nature  and  the  face  of  earth  wholly  unal¬ 
tered  by  the  hands  of  man,  and  I  saw  men  themselves  in  forms  of 
society  approaching  the  rudest ;  and  from  their  narrative  of  recent 
Indian  warfare  (as  we  passed  by  the  half  burnt  logs  which  belonged 
to  a  dwelling  where  such  and  such  a  family  had  been  massacred),  I 
acquired  that  intimate  knowledge  of  this  department  of  human  life 


22 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


which  could  not  otherwise  be  had.  I  was  taught  how  a  man  might 
sustain  himself  when  in  a  great  measure  unaided  by  art  and  unprop¬ 
ped  by  social  order.  To  me  it  will  seem  that  by  these  means  I  am 
enabled  to  look  at  men — at  nature,  at  society — with  other  eyes,  or 
from  a  better  point  of  view,  than  those  who  have  seen  nothing  but 
cultivation,  improvement  and  civilization. 

On  the  14th  May,  1796,  I  again  set  out  for  Virginia  to  complete 
my  land  payments  and  titles,  visited  Kichmond,  the  Sweet  Springs, 
the  West,  then  again  to  Richmond,  to  Norfolk,  Yorktown  and  back, 
and  on  the  11th  of  July  to  New  York,  where  it  was  resolved  that  I 
should  sail  for  Europe.  I  have  journals  of  all  these  journeys,  with 
minute  statements  of  expenses.  To  me  every  step  has  a  deep  inter¬ 
est  ;  but  my  mind  is  shaded  with  a  melancholy  so  intense,  when  I 
recur  to  my  memoranda  of  any  part  of  my  past  life,  that  I  have 
hardly  fortitude  to  do  it.  I  am  disappointed  in  this.  I  had  pre¬ 
served  papers  for  the  possible  consolation  of  age.  But  farewell ! — all 
these  events  are  hastening  into  the  oblivion  of  a  past  eternity,  except¬ 
ing  only  as  the  great  day  shall  reveal  them, — I  must  hasten  on.  I 
have  not  even  the  time  to  commemorate  the  many  civilities  I 
received,  nor  the  kind  friends  I  made  in  Virginia. 

On  the  12tli  of  August,  1796,  I  sailed  for  England,  in  the  ship 
Joseph,  Capt.  Mooers.  The  only  other  passengers  were  Mr.  Francis 
Childs  (who  was  first  to  edit  a  daily  paper  in  New  York)  and  his 
lady,  a  very  sensible  woman.  On  our  voyage  we  came  near  being 
sunk  by  a  waterspout,  and  1  believe  I  was  the  first  to  announce 
that  this  phenomenon  is,  without  all  doubt,  electric.  It  is  an  upward 
movement  of  the  fluid  (the  cloud  being  negative)  which  takes  up 
water  as  a  vehicle.  We  arrived  at  Falmouth  about  the  end  of  Sep¬ 
tember,  and  on  the  2d  of  October  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Childs  and  myself 
took  a  post  chaise  for  London.  The  residue  of  1796  and  the  winter 
of  1796-7  was  spent  chiefly  in  attempts  to  negotiate  my  lands,  of 
which  I  had  obtained  upwards  of  300,000  acres,  such  as  I  thought  I 
could  safely  and  honorably  recommend.  American  lands  had  become 
disgraced  by  the  operations  of  Robert  Morris  and  others,  and  I 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


23 


finally  failed  of  my  object.  But  I  lingered  in  Europe,  with  the 
assent  of  Mr.  Watson  ;  partly  witli  the  distant  hope  of  better  success, 
but  more  to  seize  that  opportunity  of  enlarging  my  knowledge  of  men 
and  things.  Besides  my  business,  my  object  was  to  sec  and  learn  all 
I  could.  London  was  to  be  seen  and  studied,  but  that  alone  would 
be  the  labor  of  years.  I  aimed  to  see  all  remarkable  institutions 
and  things — antiquities,  curiosities,  arts,  men.  I  attended  Parlia¬ 
ment,  and  heard  Pitt,  Fox  and  Sheridan ;  the  House  of  Lords,  and 
saw  Loughborough  on  the  woolsack ;  the  King's  Bench,  and  Lord 
Kenyon,  Ashburch,  Gross  and  Lawrence ;  the  Common  Pleas,  and 
saw  Charles  Butler  and  heard  him  give  an  opinion,  and  no  man  in 
England  gained  my  admiration  more  than  he.  In  the  city,  besides 
my  commercial  friends,  I  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Vaughan,  the 
author  of  the  wet  dock  plan,  since  executed  and  shown  as  one  of  the 
wonders  of  England.  It  was  then  “  a  theory.”  At  his  house  1 
use  to  meet  Mr.  Colqulioun,  the  celebrated  writer  on  Police.  The 
leading  American  gentlemen  were  Mr.  King,  our  Minister,  Mr.  Gore, 
Col.  Trumbull,  the  painter,  and  Mr.  Pickering — the  three  last  on  a 
committee  under  the  treaty  of  1794.  The  friendship  of  Col.  Trum¬ 
bull  and  myself  has  continued  unabated  now  thirty-five  years.  I 
made  excursions  to  other  places ;  my  studies  were  diversified  and 
general,  not  intending  to  practice  my  profession.  I  took  with  me  a 
good  collection  of  American  History,  &c.,  to  prove  the  necessary 
progression  of  the  country,  and  thence  the  necessary  rise  of  lands. 
I  drew  up  and  printed  the  paper,  of  which  there  are  two  or  three 
copies  left  among  my  private  papers,  entitled  “  Facts  and  Observa¬ 
tions,  &c.”  This  paper  seems  to  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Malthus,  as  it  is  referred  to  by  him,  in  a  note  to  my  copy  of  his 
Essay  on  Population,  with  a  remark  that  he  did  not  know  its  authority. 

Once  or  twice  I  was  on  the  point  of  concluding  a  great  operation. 
The  Bank  of  England  stopped  paying  specie;  then  was  the  mutiny 
of  the  Nore,  and  the  reverses  of  the  Duke  of  York  in  Flanders,  and 
the  success  of  the  French.  Many  capitalists  thought  of  seeking 
some  safe  investments  in  America,  but  did  not  love  very  plainly  to 


24 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


avow  it;  and  on  the  whole  the  firmness  of  the  British  nation,  under 
accumulated  difficulties,  inspired  me  with  great  respect  for  their 
national  character. 

On  the  20th  April,  1797,  Judge  Tudor  of  Boston  (late  Judge 
Advocate  of  the  American  Army),  and  Mr.  Roope,  a  young  English 
gentleman,  and  myself,  took  a  post  chaise  and  started  for  a  jaunt  to 
the  West  of  England.  At  Slough,  we  called  on  Mr.  Herschell,  and 
were  shown  by  him  his  great  telescope.  But  I  must  not  attempt 
even  an  allusion  to  the  objects  we  saw — Windsor,  Oxford,  Blenheim, 
Malmsbury,  Bath,  Bristol.  Up  the  river  Wye,  Peersfield  Walks, 
Tin  tern  Abbey,  Welsh  scenery,  Hereford  Cathedral,  Llangollen,  the 
cottage  of  Lady  Eleanor  Butler  and  Miss  Ponsonby.  My  birthday, 
when  25  years  old.  The  river  Dee,  Caernarvon,  Snowden,  Welsh 
harpers,  Bangor,  Isle  of  Anglesea,  Hollyhead.  Here  we  embarked 
for  Dublin.  13th  May,  at  Dublin,  where  we  (Judge  Tudor  and 
myself,  for  Mr.  Roope  was  to  proceed  with  us  no  farther  than 
Anglesea)  were  overwhelmed  with  hospitalities  and  kindness.  One 
day  we  dined  with  loyal  and  the  next  with  disloyal  men,  and  each 
vied  in  telling  of  the  atrocities  committed  by  the  other.  The  daily 
news  was  of  massacres  and  the  burning  of  villages,  and  our  company 
at  dinner  was  very  often  that  of  gentlemen  driven  in  from  the  dis¬ 
turbed  districts.  We  were  pressed  with  more  invitations  than  we 
could  accept,  and  we  fled  (on  28th  May)  to  avoid  them.  I  must  not 
omit  the  mention  of  Dr.  Arthur  Brown,  the  Professor  of  Civil  Law, 
&c.,  in  the  University,  who  showed  us  great  and  marked  civility. 
He  is  the  author  of  the  work  on  Civil  and  Admiralty  Law  and  of  a 
volume  of  essays  which  he  gave  me.  He  is  an  American  from 
Rhode  Island. 

28th  May.  Took  passage  in  a  boat  on  the  grand  canal  to  Attry, 
41  miles,  Carlow,  Kilkenny,  &c.,  to  Cork.  Here  we  had  letters  to 
Admiral  Kingsmill  and  to  Mr.  Cathbut  and  others,  and  from  all 
received  great  civility.  To  Killarney  ( oh  !  Killarney  !),  Limerick, 
back  to  Dublin ;  north  through  the  country  by  Lagh  Neah  to  Cole- 
rain,  Londonderry,  Giant’s  Causeway,  Belfast,  Donnoryhjodie,  and 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


25 


Port  Patrick.  Hail!  Scotland!  Sunday  looks  like  New  England, 
except  the  plaids.  To  Lanark,  to  see  Davy  Dale’s  village  and  manu¬ 
factories;  to  Glasgow;  to  Edinburgh.  Thence  towards  London, 
passing  Alnwick  and  many  wonders,  always  loaded  with  civilities  and 
hospitality  by  the  respectable  persons  to  whom  we  had  letters  every 
where.  But  I  must  not  begin  to  speak  either  of  persons  or  things 
in  detail. 

28th  July,  1797.  Left  London  for  Gravesend,  and  after  some 
delay  got  on  board  a  Dutch  fishing  smack,  under  Danish  colors  and 
getting  a  clearance  from  the  celebrated  Mazzinghi,  who  acted  as  a 
kind  of  government  agent,  we  sailed  nominally  for  Emden,  really  for 
Holland,  passing  in  between  Helvaesbeys  and  Gozee.  The  master, 
deceiving  as  to  the  place  of  landing,  put  us  on  shore  at  his  little 
exquisitely  neat  village  on  some  inner  arm  of  the  sea  or  river. 
Nothing  can  exceed  the  order,  neatness  and  quiet  decency  of  this 
Dutchman,  his  crew,  &c.  Our  fellow  passengers  were  a  Monsieur 
Hardenburgh,  whom  I  have  since  supposed  as  the  Baron  Harden- 
burgh,  since  celebrated  as  a  Prussian  diplomatist;  and  several  English 
merchants  as  agents,  whose  object  was  to  get  goods  into  France.  From 
Capt.  Staple’s  village,  we  coasted  the  arms  of  the  sea  or  river,  always 
higher  than  the  land,  and  from  which  the  distant  villages,  as  spires 
or  trees,  were  seen  as  if  rising  out  of  the  water.  We  came  as  if 
from  the  interior  and  landed  on  Beeveland ;  thence  the  great  city  of 
Middleburgh  to  Flushing.  I  had  no  passport  on  account  of  the  war, 
but  Mr.  King  had  given  me  a  certificate  of  being  an  American  citi¬ 
zen.  The  French  officer  at  Flushing  vised  this,  because  he  believed 
it  false,  for  he  supposed  I  was  English,  and  that  my  object  was  to 
smuggle  in  English  goods,  which  was  the  real  object  of  my  English 
fellow  travelers. 

August  1.  1  took  an  open  pilot  boat  and  sailed  up  the  wide,  bois¬ 

terous  Scheldt,  sometimes  landing  and  walking  on  Indian  matting 
up  the  dyke  and  going  over  into  the  village  below  for  dinner  and 
lodging.  This  is  Lille  !  Those  distant  spires  are  Bergen-op-Zoom  ! 
I  am  in  the  midst  of  names  and  things  consecrated  to  everlasting 
recollection ! 


26 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


Antwerp,  at  tlie  table  d’hote  of  the  Hotel  D’Angleteere.  The 
town  is  all  old  fashioned,  Dutch  built,  with  grated  windows.  The 
cathedral,  the  tower  of  622  steps  high,  is  as  light  and  airy  as  could 
be  made  of  wood,  and  brings  nearly  all  the  Netherlands  under  its 
view.  What  a  country  !  What  a  forest  of  towns  and  villages !  But 
grass  grows  in  the  streets  of  Antwerp.  Saw  the  house  of  Rubens, 
town-hall,  &c.  An  excursion  to  antiquated  Ghent.  To  Boom  by  a 
diligence;  on  the  carnal  to  Brussels, — the  park  is  very  magnificent. 
To  Lille.  But  the  question  was  how  I  could  get  in,  for  this  was 
now  treated  as  the  proper  frontier,  and  here  we  expected  a  strict 
examination  of  our  passports.  Lord  Malmsbury  and  suite  were 
there,  he  negotiating  about  peace ;  and  there  were  many  English  in 
the  place,  and  my  dress  was  of  course  English.  So,  before  arriving 
at  the  city  gate,  I  stepped  out  of  the  “  diligence  ”  and  walked  care¬ 
fully  toward  the  gate,  thoughtful  and  much  at  ease,  rapping  my  boot 
with  a  rattan  as  I  walked,  and  seeming  to  take  no  notice  of  the  senti¬ 
nel.  Lie  took  me  for  a  resident  Englishman  and  let  me  pass.  I 
had  before  taken  the  address  of  the  hotel  to  which  I  wanted  to  go. 
Behold,  I  am  in  France!  Lille  is  called  “Petit  Paris.”  But 
what  stupendous  works  are  these  fortifications ! !  As  to  our  pass¬ 
ports  in  going  out  of  Lille,  the  way  was,  in  going  out  early  before 
daylight  of  the  morning ;  our  diligence  was  very  full,  and  the  other 
passengers  smuggled  me  back  out  of  sight ;  many  passports  were 
shown  to  the  officer  at  the  barrier,  and  when  he  asked  “  Are  there 
any  more  ?”  some  one  of  my  friends  answered  promptly  no, — and  so 
we  drove  on  through  Arras,  Mevin  (all  riddled  with  ball  holes)  and 
Amiens ;  and  10th  August  to  Paris,  at  the  Hotel  de  Philadelphie. 
Early  and  late  most  intently  employed  in  getting  an  idea  of  the  city. 
In  a  few  days  an  officer  waked  me  very  early  and  showed  me  a  seal 
of  the  Republic,  which  I  supposed  was  an  arrest.  “  Why  need  you 
wake  me  so  early,  friend,  I  am  not  going  away?”  “They  told  at 
the  Police,  sir,  that  your  habit  was  to  rise  very  early  in  the  morn¬ 
ing,  and  I  should  not  see  you  if  1  called  later.”  It  was  a  summons 
to  show  my  passport,  which  had  now  many  visas,  and  they  gave 
some  kind  of  paper  allowing  my  stay,  I  forget  what. 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


27 


The  18th  day  Fructidor  corresponded  with  the  5th  September, 
and  was  the  day  of  the  great  coup  d'etat ,  when  Barras  and  two  oth¬ 
ers  of  the  Directory  arrested  Carnot  and  Bartholemy  and  a  majority 
of  the  two  Councils  and  sent  them  into  banishment.  All  Paris  rung 
with  the  note  of  preparation  some  days  before,  and  when  we  rose  in 
the  morning  it  was  known,  as  if  by  instinct,  that  the  blow  had  been 
struck.  I  walked  early  out  to  see  the  sight,  and  found  cannon  with 
cannoniers  and  lighted  matches  pointing  down  every  street.  Before 
this  I  had  already  met  my  old  friend  Savarin,  as  I  accidentally 
walked  the  Palais  Royal.  1  forgot  to  mention,  in  its  place,  that  he 
taught  me  French  in  1796  at  New  York.  He  had  been  a  man  of 
fortune,  was  a  thorough  scholar,  lately  a  member  of  the  Constitu¬ 
ent  Assembly  of  France,  tied  in  the  Reign  of  Terror,  had  his  all 
confiscated,  was  now  a  member  of  the  Court  of  Cassation,  again  lost 
his  office,  and  when  I  left  France  was  on  the  staff  of  Jourdan  in 
Germany  (or  had  lately  been).  “  It  remains,”  said  M.  Savarin,  “  to 
be  seen,  whether  the  departments  will  submit  to  this,”  but  Paris  is 
France.  Through  M.  Savarin  I  made  many  desirable  acquaint¬ 
ances.  Among  others,  Major  Rostan,  who  I  suspect,  but  do  not 
know,  was  afterwards  Bonaparte’s  Col.  of  Mamelukes,  Mr.  Mont¬ 
golfier,  the  inventor  of  the  air-balloon,  &c.  At  Madame  St.  Hil¬ 
aire’s,  555  Rue  de  Bacy,  lodged  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barlow,  the  friends 
of  my  uncle,  and  my  kind  friends  when  we  all  lived  under  the  same 
roof  at  Hartford.  How  very  curious  that  we  should  lodge  at  the 
same  hotel  in  France!  There,  too,  was  Robert  Fulton,  and  my  friend 
William  Lee.  The  society  was  excellent,  but  we  spoke  too  much 
English,  and  through  M.  Savarin  I  got  into  a  French  family  from 
Dijon,  and  afterwards  into  still  another.  I  forgot  the  day  of  Bona¬ 
parte’s  return  from  his  Venetian  and  Italian  campaigns,  and  of  his 
reception  by  the  Executive  Directory  at  the  Palace  of  the  Luxem¬ 
bourg.  There  I  saw  and  heard  the  adulation  of  the  French,  and 
came  back  and  told  Mr.  Barlow  that  the  French  never  could  be 
republicans. 

But  I  must  not  attempt  to  enumerate.  I  read,  studied,  examined 


28 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


interesting  objects,  learned  French  and  Italian,  heard  lectures,  stud¬ 
ied  the  drama  and  opera,  and  continued  an  infidel.  My  utmost 
efforts  were  used  to  acquire  all  the  knowledge  I  could.  I  think  the 
Commissioners  sent  by  President  Adams  to  treat  with  France  were 
already  there.  If  not,  they  arrived  soon  afterwards,  viz.,  Mr.  Charles 
Cotesworth  Pinckney,  John  Marshall  and  Elbridge  Gerry.  They 
were  there  all  the  winter  unrecognized.  It  afterwards  appeared  that 
the  winter  was  spent  in  the  X,  Y,  Z  negotiation.  Here  I  renewed 
my  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Marshall,  and  formed  one  with  Mr.  Pinck¬ 
ney,  from  whom  (both)  I  received  many  civilities.  My  leading  occu¬ 
pations  were  scientific.  I  followed  assiduously  the  course  of  lec¬ 
tures  by  Charles,  on  Physics,  with  his  most  splendid  apparatus  in  the 
Louvre.  (He  gave  it  to  the  nation,  in  a  fright  in  the  Reign  of  Ter¬ 
ror,  but  was  allowed  to  use  it.)  Le  Sage  on  Mineralogy  a  little,  but 
more  particularly  Fourcroy  on  Chemistry — a  splendid  lecturer.  I 
have  still  my  notes  in  French  taken  from  his  lectures,  written  with 
'?■'  fountain-pen.  General  Pinckney  and  some  of  his  family 
a&,L  ;d  both  Fourcroy  and  Charles.  In  the  intervals,  I  read,  made 
coLursions,  studied  the  paintings  in  the  Louvre,  the  public  buildings 
'  other  objects  of  art  or  of  admiration.  So  passed  the  winter. 

In  Germinal  (part  of  March)  Mr.  Lee  and  myself  took  a  diligence 
for  Bordeaux  to  embark  for  America.  “Farewell,  Paris!”  said  I,  as 
I  rose  the  gentle  hills  at  the  distance  of  three  or  four  leagues  and 
looking  back  perceived  the  houses  first,  then  the  churches,  sink  out 
of  view.  There — I  can  see  nothing  but  the  Pantheon  and  Notre 
Dame !  At  length  the  Pantheon  disappeared,  and  the  Cathedra’ 
which  I  had  seen  so  flat  and  squat  on  an  alluvial  island  of  the  Seine 
— that  Cathedral  which,  farmer-like,  I  had  estimated  by  pacing  it 
and  judged  to  contain  about  four  acres, — that  flat,  squat,  Dutch,  barn¬ 
looking  building,  rose  towering  above  all  Paris,  and  was  the  last 
object  which,  turning  often  back,  1  could  see  when  I  finally  said, 

“  Farewell,  Paris!” 

Orleans,  Blois  (the  seat  of  good  French),  Tours,  Poictiers,  Ang^ 
leme,  roads  some  of  them  muddy  enough  for  old  Genesee,  bad 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


29 


the  vignerons  uncovering  their  vines  and  tying  them  to  the  “  elms,” 
and  the  elections  for  the  year — these  were  some  of  the  objects.  The 
elections  were  conducted  under  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  We  saw 
the  troops  ordered  into  all  the  large  towns,  and  the  party  opposed  to 
the  Directory — that  is,  the  candidates  and  their  committees — were 
put  under  arrest ;  14  in  Orleans,  as  1  remember,  and  9  in  Tours,  &c., 
&c.  Of  course,  the  true  republicans  succeeded. 

We  had  few  days  to  see  Bordeaux,  its  splendid  quay  and  fine 
theatre  and  decaying  commerce.  Then  taking  an  open  boat  on  the 

Garonne  we  got  on  board  the  brig  - ,  Capt.  - ,  a  dull 

sailor.  I  tried  to  soothe  my  dreadful  seasickness  by  reading  Dupin’s 
most  learned  atheistical  work,  “  Origin  de  tous  les  Cultes,”  but  I 
never  for  a  moment  admitted  atheism  in  my  heart.  Blessed  be  thy 
name,  O  most  holy  God  !  And  1  think  that  this  doctrine,  resulting 
from  other  less  rank  infidelity,  may  have  alarmed  me  a  little  by  its 
excesses,  and  given  my  mind  some  bias  favorable  to  the  subsequent 
reception  of  religious  truth.  A  wide  ocean,  dreadful  weathe 
poor  plank  only  between  me  and  water  miles  in  depth,  were 
stances  which  ought  to  make  any  human  heart  wish  to  believe  l 
God  of  providence,  and  in  Ilis  care.  But  though  I  believed  not 
Him  as  the  hearer  of  prayer,  nor  in  special  superintendence,  yet  He 
bore  with  me  and  brought  me  safe  home.  “  Bless  the  Lord,  oh  !  my1' 
soul,  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits.” 

Sixty  days  of  adverse  winds  and  currents  had  worn  me  down  to  a 
skeleton  with  seasickness.  Besides  we  were  out  of  all  provisions, 
ixcept  a  little  poor  beef  and  bread  ;  and  finding  some  fishermen  on 
the  banks  of  Newfoundland,  we  got  into  one  of  their  boats,  which 
to  appearance  was  one  of  the  dirtiest  and  least  inviting  of  any  vessel 
I  ever  saw.  But  the  fare  was  excellent,  the  treatment  kind,  the  sea 
smoother,  the  gales  sweet  and  favorable,  and  the  charges  reasonable ; 
and  in  six  days  our  kind  fishermen  landed  us  in  Marblehead.  My 
country — my  country — how  sweet  to  me  are  the  very  rocks  of  thy 
■»  dd  and  rough  shore  ! 

Boston,  Springfield,  Hartford,  New  York.  I  soon  after  visited 
3 


30 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


ray  friends  in  Goshen.  It  was  now  the  summer  of  1798.  Thus 
ended  the  project  which  had  kept  me  occupied  for  more  than  four 
years,  and  it  resulted  in  a  complete  failure.  I  had  not  sold  my 
lands;  they  remained  a  dead  weight  on  Mr.  Watson’s  hands;  four 
years  of  my  life  had  been  spent,  usefully  in  many  respects,  but  not 
as  to  advance  me  in  my  profession.  Some  precious  years  of  youth 
and  strength  had  passed,  and  I  was  now  to  begin  life  in  debt  and 
without  a  cent.  Mr.  Watson  still  extended  to  me  his  hospitality 
and  continued  to  make  me  a  member  of  his  family  as  before.  I 
took  an  office  without  delay ;  but  in  August  the  yellow  fever  broke 
out  with  great  violence  and  we  were  scattered.  Congress  had  passed 
an  act  for  the  assessment  and  collection  of  a  direct  tax  of  two  mill¬ 
ions.  The  commissioners  to  make  the  asesssment,  of  whom  Mr.  Wat- 
son  was  chairman,  met  at  Hudson  and  appointed  me  clerk.  General 
Gordon,  the  grandfather  of  Mr.  G.  Verplanck,  was  one  of  the  com¬ 
missioners,  as  also  Moss  Kent,  the  brother  of  the  Chancellor.  On 
me  devolved  the  charge  of  digesting  a  system  for  the  valuation, 
-sessment,  appeals,  and  also  for  the  abstracts  and  returns.  The 
mmissioners  sanctioned  whatever  I  did,  and  the  whole  went  suc¬ 
cessfully  into  operation.  The  plan  and  correspondence  with  the 
Treasury  were  probably  well  conducted ;  but  as  a  mere  clerk,  whether 
as  a  writer  or  calculator,  I  was  miserable. 

In  the  fall  of  1798  two  events  happened  to  throw  a  considerable 
amount  of  business  into  my  hands.  Mr.  Michael  D.  Henry,  a  very 
respectable  attorney,  declining  with  consumption,  left  his  business  in 
my  hands  in  his  lifetime  and  after  his  death.  And  my  friend  Jacob 
Kadcliff,  Esq.,  being  appointed  a  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court,  did 
the  same.  I  had  never  well  understood  the  forms  of  practice  and 
was  now  crude  in  my  knowledge  of  principles,  having  forgotten 
much  which  was  to  be  understood  and  acted  on  at  once — not  a  sin¬ 
gle  cause,  but  a  multitude.  How  I  ever  got  along  with  it  is  now 
matter  of  amazement  to  me.  I  studied  and  wrought  to  the  utmost 
stretch  of  the  powers  of  my  fine  constitution.  At  times  I  took  a 
blanket  and  pillows  to  my  office,  and  passed  the  night  sleeping  an 


f 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


31 


hour  or  two  at  intervals,  and  studying  or  writing  most  of  the  time. 
I  had  an  impression  that  the  lawyers  of  New  York  looked  unkindly 
at  me,  as  not  having  served  a  “  regular  apprenticeship.”  I  was  too 
proud  to  ask  for  information  or  fee  counsel,  and  was  the  first  young 
counsel  who  had  relied  upon  himself  alone  to  sustain  his  client’s 
cause.  I  was  also  the  first  eastern  lawyer  who  had  settled  at  New 
York  with  the  manifest  purpose  of  making  his  way  at  the  bar. 
Business  increased  and  paid  off  my  debts  to  Mr.  Watson — I  mean 
the  pecuniary  debt,  for  the  debt  of  gratitude  can  never  be  paid. 

Your  mother  and  I  were  married  on  the  5th  October,  1S00.  We 
went  to  housekeeping  in  May  following  in  Broad  street  (No.  16)  and 
a  house  rent  of  $1000  a  year.  By  this  time  I  had  an  office  full  of 
clerks.  After  either  one  or  two  years  we  removed  to  274  Pearl 
street,  a  house  which  your  Grandpa  Rogers  gave  to  your  mother. 
Mary  was  born  in  Broad  street;  William,  Julia  Ann,  and  Hester  in 
Pearl  street;  Samuel  in  the  village  of  Geneseo;  Woolsey  and  Sarah 
at  my  late  house  near  Moscow. 

In  1S06  your  mother  and  I  took  a  jaunt  to  Niagara  Falls.  It  was 
to  me  a  relaxation  from  labor  which  I  much  needed.  We  traveled 
with  a  phaeton  and  pair.  It  was  a  question  of  much  speculation 
whether  we  must  not  sleep  in  the  woods  one  night  beyond  Batavia, 
but  it  turned  out  that  there  was  a  house.  I  see  a  note  in  my  journal 
that  for  such  a  certain  part  of  the  journey  “  no  guide  is  necessary  !  ” 
But  there  was  a  four-mile  woods  in  one  place  and  a  twelve-mile 
woods  in  another.  It  was  agreed  that  no  spring  carriage  could  pass 
the  road,  and  I  left  the  phaeton  and  took  a  common  wagon  at  Can¬ 
andaigua.  Mr.  John  Winthrop  and  B.  W.  Rogers  were  with  us  on 
a  great  part  of  the  road. 

In  1808-9-10-11,  indeed  ever  after  the  election  of  Mr.  Jefferson, 
the  politics  of  the  country  excited  a  most  intense  interest.  I  was 
always  a  Federalist,  a  disciple  politically  of  the  school  of  Washington 
and  of  the  framers  of  the  Constitution,  and  all  that  I  had  seen  abroad 
seemed  but  to  increase  in  my  mind  the  dread  of  that  extreme  democ¬ 
racy  which  is  allied  and  leads  to  despotism.  But  the  worst  feature 


32 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


of  it  was,  that  the  party  was  essentially  French.  The  object  was  to 
subjugate  the  country  to  French  plans  of  aggrandisement.  I  entered 
ardently  into  the  contest  of  party  politics,  and  I  do  not  think  that  in 
the  retrospect  I  have  aught  to  reproach  in  my  motives.  But  it 
engrossed  too  much  of  my  time,  as  did  also  the  affairs  of  the  city,  for 
I  was  several  years  a  member  of  the  Common  Council.  Besides 
this,  when  the  embargo  and  restrictions  came  on,  business  most  unex¬ 
pectedly  diminished.  By  a  kind  of  common  consent,  nobody  paid 
and  nobody  was  sued,  and  the  lawyers  were  starved  instead  of  fatten¬ 
ing.  Finally,  and  more  especially,  your  relations  on  your  mother’s 
side  were  a  very  numerous  connexion  of  people  of  unexampled  pros¬ 
perity,  and  of  no  little  love  of  the  “  pride  of  life.”  As  to  me,  though 
I  loved  the  pride  of  life  as  well  as  they,  yet  my  business  was  never 
of  the  most  lucrative  sort,  nor  had  I  any  knack  of  making  the  most 
of  it.  Mine  was  the  business  which  came  because  it  needed  a  hard¬ 
working,  persevering  man,  and  not  because  it  was  bestowed  by  pat¬ 
ronage.  My  family  expenses  were  enormous,  and  I  saw  that  I  was 
wearing  out  life  to  gratify  a  vain  ostentation  for  which  I  was  not 
the  better  nor  happier.  I  sought  to  get  into  the  country  and  hoped 
to  save  my  life  by  escaping  the  terrible  labors  of  my  profession. 

And  a  word  about  my  professional  life.  I  was  excessively  labori¬ 
ous,  caretaking  and  anxious.  I  made  my  client’s  cause  my  own,  too 
much  so,  and  held  on  upon  it,  as  they  say,  with  the  grasp  of  death. 
I  was  a  stranger  to  selfish  calculations,  and  having  been  brought  into 
deep  sympathy  with  my  client,  I  could  never  learn  to  set  up  my  own 
interest  in  my  heart  so  as  to  obtain  anything  like  just  compensation 
for  my  services.  In  this  spirit  I  undertook  charity  causes  and 
fought  them  (one  at  least)  with  unyielding  perseverance  for  years. 
1  repeated  the  old  trick  of  working  alternately  with  catches  of  sleep 
through  the  night,  in  which  way  I  once  went  through  a  hearing  of 
eleven  days  in  the  Court  of  Chancery,  alone  myself  against  two  very 
eminent  counsel.  1  was  self-confident,  even  to  presumption,  and 
yet  the  greatest  suffering  of  my  life  has  been  from  diffidence.  No 
description  can  give  any  idea  of  the  throbs  of  agitation  under  which 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


33 


I  spoke  in  court,  or  waited  to  speak,  and  wliat  was  to  me  melan¬ 
choly,  it  seemed  not  to  wear  oft’  with  time.  I  almost  never  spoke  in 
any  court  or  place  in  this  part  of  my  life  without  much  distress,  and 
never  without  such  agitation  as  took  from  me  much  of  the  power  I 
should  otherwise  have  exhibited.  In  subsequent  life  1  acquired  com¬ 
posure  when  speaking  at  the  bar,  but  then  the  same  distress  clung  to 
me  when  speaking  in  other  places  and  on  other  subjects,  until  I  had 
been  long  much  accustomed  to  them.  An  address  on  temperance, 
anti-masonry,  or  at  a  public  anniversary,  would  rack  my  whole  frame  ; 
and  as  these  ar q  post-obit  confessions,  I  may  now  say,  that  for  at  least 
ten  years  after  I  began  to  use  extemporaneous  prayer  in  my  family  it 
was  almost  always  performed  with  great  distress,  and  I  have  seriously 
doubted  whether  that  distress  was  not  the  foundation  of  my  long  dys¬ 
pepsia  while  living  since  at  Albany.  Even  now  in  my  sixty-first  year, 
it  so  agitates  me,  if  I  expect  to  be  called  on  to  pray  in  public,  that  I 
am  deprived  of  almost  all  enjoyment  from  the  meeting. 

On  the  whole,  my  success  as  a  lawyer  was  sufficiently  encouraging. 
I  probably  held  a  better  rank  at  the  bar  than  any  man  of  my  years 
had  ever  done  in  New  York.  What  I  aimed  for  with  such  intense 
exertion  was  given  me,  but  with  it  gall  was  intermingled,  and  I 
began  now  to  come  to  the  time  when  a  merciful  Providence  was,  as 
I  humbly  trust,  leading  me  to  Himself,  though  by  “a  way  that  I 
knew  not  of.”  I  lived  in  a  style  sufficiently  though  not  exceedingly 
elegant.  My  connections  were  in  the  best  rank  of  society.  I  had 
public  influence  and  popularity,  though  my  party  was  not  generally 
successful.  But  a  little  check  in  business  cramped  my  finances.  I 
began  to  see  that  with  a  rapidly  increasing  family  I  must  reduce  my 
style  of  living  or  leave  the  city.  It  was  with  difficulty  that  I  met 
all  my  engagements  on  leaving  New  York.  And  although  I  saved 
my  pride  and  glossed  over  a  removal,  as  well  as  I  could,  by  talking 
about  health  and  country  life  (truly  enough),  yet  in  reality  my 
removal  dashed  all  the  fondest  hopes  of  my  ambitious  and  proud 
spirit  and  was  a  sore  and  prostrating  blow.  Deep  griefs  took  hold 
of  me,  and  were  vented  in  floods  of  tears,  seen  only  by  Him  who 
seetli  in  secret,  and  thus  I  was  taught  to  pray,  or  attempt  to  pray. 


31 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


In  1810  I  purchased,  jointly  with  your  uncle,  B.  W.  Rogers,  a 
share  in  two  tracts  of  land  which  had  been  reserved  by  the  Indians 
or  their  agents  or  interpreters  as,  above  all  others,  choice  and  delight¬ 
ful, — that  is  Mount  Morris  and  the  Leicester  tract  on  the  Genesee 
river.  If  the  habitable  globe  contains  any  places  more  entirely  excel¬ 
lent  and  desirable  than  these  two  adjoining  tracts,  I  know  it  not.  I 
bought  merino  sheep  and  went  to  farming.  In  1811,  I  removed  to 
Geneseo,  the  village  of  my  old  and  excellent  friends,  James  and  Will¬ 
iam  Wadsworth.  From  here  I  superintended  my  farm  with  unspar¬ 
ing  diligence  and  care  until  I  could  have  a  house  prepared.  In  1812 
the  war.  In  1813-14  I  was  a  member  of  the  Xlllth  Congress — an 
election  which  was  contrary  to  my  expectation  and  wishes,  and  to 
the  duties  of  which  my  farm  and  building  forbade  my  giving  much 
attention.  Besides,  I  had  hardly  a  party  to  act  with,  for  a  great 
portion  of  the  Federalists  voted  against  all  means  to  strengthen  the 
government,  a  course  which  (much  as  I  disapproved  of  the  war,  and 
well  as  I  knew  it  was  got  up  for  party  purposes,  and  that  those  pur¬ 
poses  were  at  bottom  devised  by  French  influence)  I  could  not 
approve  nor  acquiesce  in.  So  1  staid  in  Washington  as  little  as  I 
could,  and  disappointed  my  friends  by  taking  but  little  or  no  part  in 
the  proceedings.  In  these  same  years  I  built  my  house.  In  August, 
1814, 1  laid  out  the  village  of  Moscow  on  a  plain  which  far  and  wide 
was  covered  with  a  young  growth  of  oak  and  hickory,  so  thick  as  to 
be  almost  impervious,  and  such  as  prevented  me  from  getting  any 
just  knowledge  of  the  extent  and  shape  of  the  plain,  except  by  actual 
mathematical  survey.  But  I  have  passed  some  scenes  of  deep  inter¬ 
est.  My  brother  Mark  was  agent  for  our  company,  who  had  pur¬ 
chased  a  large  share  of  Mount  Morris,  and  he  began  by  sowing  about 
100  acres  of  hemp,  which  we  intended  to  raise  for  the  JSTew  York 
market.  While  we  were  making  the  first  day’s  trial  of  some  in  ven- 
tions  to  facilitate  the  cutting  of  such  a  harvest,  he  fell  suddenly  sick 
in  the  field,  and  that  was  the  commencement  of  a  bilious  fever  which 
for  some  time  we  expected  would  prove  fatal.  Our  good  cousin 
Mary  Smith  (Mrs.  Ayrault)  was  almost  alone  his  nurse  and  house- 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


35 


keeper.  Expecting  lie  would  not  live,  I  wrote  a  statement  of  the 
facts  to  my  dear  and  excellent  mother,  then  at  Utica  with  my  sister 
Susan.  She  came  hastily  on,  with  a  strong  presentiment  that  she 
should  not  live,  and  soon  sickened.  My  father  then  left  Mt.  Morris 
to  help  to  take  care  of  my  mother,  and  as  we  walked  in  the  fields 
for  some  herbs  he  stumbled  as  if  drunk,  and  immediately  fell  sick  at 
my  house  of  the  same  fever.  My  practice  now  was  to  ride  to  Mt. 
Morris,  six  miles,  and  see  to  the  state  of  my  brother  and  attend  the 
consultation  of  physicians,  oversee  the  work  and  employment,  the 
food  and  payment  of  twenty  or  thirty  men,  or  more  perhaps,  who 
were  cutting  hemp,  ride  home  in  the  evening  and  attend  to  my 
father  and  mother.  My  father  and  brother  recovered ;  my  mother 
died  and  is  buried  in  the  graveyard  on  the  hill  east  of  Geneseo  vil¬ 
lage.  A  partition  only  separated  my  two  parents  as  one  lay  dead 
and  the  other  expecting  to  die.  I  heard  my  father  call  my  mother 
in  very  affecting  terms.  Supposing  him  a  little  delirious,  I  said, 
‘“She  is  dead,  sir;  don’t  you  remember  it?”  “Yes!  I  know  very 
well  that  she  is  dead.”  He  of  course  was  unable  to  attend  the 
funeral,  but  he  would  rise  and  look  at  the  procession  through  the 
wdndow.  The  physicians  came  to  me  and  said  they  saw  no  more  to 
do  for  him.  “  Well,  gentlemen,  let  me  know  when  you  consider  all 
the  resources  of  regular  practice  exhausted  ;  when  you  do  so,  I  will 
take  my  own  course.”  “What  will  you  do?”  “I  will  try  baths  in 
some  shape,  cold  or  hot.”  They  retired  again  on  this,  and  ordered  a 
hot  salt  bath,  which  I  personally  administered  by  means  of  a  mattress 
and  blanket,  the  latter  wrung  out  in  the  brine  and  often  changed. 
On  the  second  immersion  a  little  sweat  started  from  the  forehead, 
and  my  father  lived  near  seven  years  longer. 

One  of  the  most  delightful  dreams  of  my  fancy  in  going  to  the 
West  was  to  have  my  parents  near  me,  so  that  we  might  live  in  each 
other’s  society,  and  some  in  turn  might  close  the  eyes  of  the  others. 
It  was  otherwise  ordered,  and  I  already  began  to  see  the  clouds  of 
disappointment  gather  around  my  new  establishment.  I  cleared 
land,  fenced  fields,  and  multiplied  my  sheep.  I  built  a  house,  a  vil- 


36 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


lage,  and  mills  and  farm  buildings.  From  the  river  my  operations 
extended  back  to  the  pine  woods,  near  three  miles.  But  I  made 
these  improvements  at  the  enormous  war  prices  of  labor  and  prod¬ 
uce,  and  when  in  turn  I  had  the  wheat  of  100  acres  to  sell,  it  would 
not  command  in  cash  25  cents  per  bushel  for  any  quantity,  great  or 
small ;  and  the  wool  of  1500  sheep  sold  proportionally  low,  or  nearly 
so.  Of  these  sheep  a  select  flock  of  300  were  bred  with  more  care, 
I  presume,  than  any  other  man  ever  used.  I  have  the  names  (num¬ 
bers),  crosses  and  pedigree  of  all  the  breeders  registered,  with  annual 
samples  of  the  wool  of  each.  And  while  mentioning  my  flocks,  1 
must  not  forget  the  name  of  my  most  estimable  friend,  my  shepherd 
Malcolm  McHaughton.  He  was  among  the  men  I  have  known,  as 
most  truly  respectable,  just,  faithful,  diligent  and  devoted  to  my 
interest.  He  was  brought  up  in  the  highlands  of  Scotland,  and 
could  read  his  Bihle  in  the  language  of  Ossian  before  he  could  speak 
a  word  of  English. 

My  ten  years  of  life  on  the  Genesee  river  were  years  of  very  high 
excitement  and  effort.  My  engagements,  public  and  private,  were 
important  and  very  diversified.  There  was  much  enjoyment  in  the 
various  enterprises  in  which  I  was  engaged.  I  was  in  the  full  tide 
of  whatever  strength  of  body  and  mind  I  ever  possessed.  I  acted 
practically  on  the  notion  that  nothing  was  too  much  for  me.  I  pur¬ 
sued  my  projects  with  most  incessant  and  vigorous  effort,  but  all 
tended  to  disappointment.  The  clouds  of  adversity  gathered,  and 
its  storms  began  to  beat  hard  upon  me.  A  just  and  merciful  Provi¬ 
dence  found  many  ways,  by  me  unthought  of,  to  make  all  my  enter¬ 
prises,  however  diligently  and  carefully  conducted,  to  issue  in  loss. 
But  my  real  estate  had  greatly  risen  in  value,  and  seemed  enough  to 
meet,  in  the  last  resort,  all  possible  deficiencies.  As  late  perhaps  as 
1817,  it  was  estimated  on  a  very  careful  revision,  with  the  aid  of 
friends,  as  worth  $74,000  or  $75,000,  and  in  two  or  three  years  after 
I  was  glad  to  accept  a  bank  check  of  $25,000  for  the  whole.  Years 
after  it  was  gradually  explained  that  the  utter  disappearance  of 
money,  which  reduced  me  and  many  thousands  besides  to  ruin,  was 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


37 


the  necessary  result  of  operations  to  restore  a  vitiated  currency,  and 
that  the  vitiation  was  the  fruit  of  the  labors  of  politicians  and  dema¬ 
gogues.  Quicquid  delirunt  reges,  jplectuntur  Achivi. 

I  must  not  leave  the  Genesee  river  without  a  tribute  of  respect 
for  the  admirable  circle  of  society  which,  new  as  the  country  was,  it 
was  our  happiness  to  enjoy.  I  must  not  begin  to  name  individuals. 
Our  visiting  circle  extended  to  Canandaigua,  and  so  thirty  miles 
around.  Oh,  what  brilliant-minded  women  and  what  able,  intelligent 
men  were  in  that  circle  !  What  a  truty  polished  society  !  Oh,  that 
more  of  them  had  gained  the  true  knowledge  and  accumulated  the 
riches  that  will  never  fly  away  ! 

Neither  must  I  quit  the  place  without  a  tribute  of  everlasting 
affection  for  your  excellent  mother.  The  disappointments  of  my 
life  have  often  been  to  her  a  cup  of  humiliation  and  sorrow.  She 
had  been  brought  up  with  no  idea  of  any  limitation  of  means  of  any 
kind.  She  knew  nothing  of  life  except  as  a  scene  of  elegant  and 
refined  enjoyment  and  gratification.  Judge,  then,  what  was  my 
anguish,  when  I  was  finally  compelled  to  inform  her  that  we  had 
not  the  means  to  keep  up  our  style  of  living  in  New  York ;  that  I 
thought  we  must  go  into  the  country ;  and  when  we  moved,  first 
into  an  old  house  that  had  been  a  dirty  tavern,  and  then  into  an 
unfinished  house,  and  then  to  meet  the  various  occasional  wants  of 
the  country  ;  and  then,  when  I  had  finally  made  one  of  the  most  ele¬ 
gant  establishments  in  the  State,  what  must  have  been  my  anguish 
and  hers,  to  find  that  we  must  leave  a  place  to  which  her  heart,  as 
well  as  my  own,  had  been  wholly  knit !  Through  all  this  and 
through  the  subsequent  difficulties  of  life  your  dear  mother  has  fol¬ 
lowed  me.  She  left  parents  and  many  friends  that  were  dear  to  her; 
she  has  most  kindly  reconciled  herself  to  very  trying  changes,  in 
which  my  heart  has  often  deeply  sympathized  with  her,  regarding 
her  sufferings  much  more  than  my  own.  Dearest  wife,  this  is  for 
you,  too,  to  read  when  I  am  gone.  Accept,  I  pray,  as  my  poor 
acknowledgment  for  all  you  have  endured  on  my  account. 

Losses  came  upon  losses  like  the  beating  of  hail.  But  the  greatest 


ss 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


was  that  money  disappeared  from  the  country  and  property  ceased 
to  have  any  but  a  very  low  exchangeable  value.  When  afterwards 
1  came  to  sell  my  Moscow  estate,  at  a  loss  of  $50,000  compared  with 
its  late  salable  value,  I  deemed  the  sale  rather  a  fortunate  escape. 
It  left  me  in  debt,  though  not  heavily  so,  beyond  all  my  means  of 
payment. 

My  father  died  at  Mt.  Morris  in  March,  1818,  and  I  buried  him 
in  the  new  and  till  then  unoccupied  burying  ground  on  the  hill  west 
of  the  village.  His  death  conspired  with  the  unpromising  aspect  of 
all  my  prospects  in  life  to  make  me  sorrowful  and  thoughtful ;  and, 
in  proportion  as  I  was  so,  I  think  I  found  myself  disposed  to  hum¬ 
ble  myself  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God, — to  acknowledge  his 
justice  and  to  submit  to  his  chastisement.  As  I  now  write  this,  it 
seems  to  me  as  if  much  of  these  expressions  would  truly  represent 
the  feelings  of  a  heart  renewed  in  His  image,  but  such  was  not  then 
the  idea  of  myself.  I  however  very  well  remember  the  time  when, 
riding  sad  and  lonely  on  my  horse,  my  heart  very  distinctly  said:  “I 
will  be  on  the  side  of  Christ ;  I  will  go  and  make  my  father’s  place 
good  in  his  church.”  I  do  not  believe  that  I  then  thought  of  my 
own  state,  nor  reflected  on  the  question  whether  my  heart  was  or 
had  been  changed  or  not.  But  I  continued  in  my  purpose  to  join 
myself  to  the  people  of  God,  and  was  received  into  the  church  at 
Moscow,  where  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mason  was  then  preaching.  Oh, 
that  it  may  finally  appear  that  I  am  a  member  of  the  invisible 
church  of  the  Redeemer!  If  so,  then  how  merciful  have  been  all 
the  disappointments,  rebukes  and  humiliations  which  a  righteous 
God  has  administered  to  me.  The  best  account  I  can  give  of  my 
exercises,  at  or  about  this  time,  is  very  poor. 

In  the  spring  of  1822  I  sold  off,  paid  off,  broke  up  and  traced  my 
course  to  Albany.  1  had  made  every  previous  arrangement  there, 
having  been  a  member  of  the  Senate  and  attended  there  during  the 
winter.  My  object  was  to  live  by  my  profession  of  the  law,  and 
after  much  consideration  and  advice  of  professional  friends  I  pre¬ 
ferred  Albany  to  Hew  York.  Rent  was  low  and  living  cheap  at 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


39 


Albany,  but  with  $2000  in  hand  I  would  have  gone  to  New  York. 
Albany,  before  the  canal  was  open,  was  rather  in  decay,  and  it  was 
the  place  in  the  State  where  I  had  the  least  hold  on  the  ground  of 
personal  interest.  Before  my  wife’s  furniture  and  my  own  library 
were  put  up,  I  was  taken  down  with  typhus  fever.  My  excellent 
friend,  Dr.  Daniel  James,  carried  me  safely  through  it  in  three  or  four 
weeks,  and  it  was  followed  by  five  or  six  years  of  dyspepsia.  The 
most  unhappy  effect  of  this  disorder  was  that  it  rendered  me  inca¬ 
pable  of  intense  application  to  study  or  business. 

Albany  received  us  with  great  hospitality,  but  gave  me  no  busi¬ 
ness.  I  was,  however,  extensively  known  to  lawyers  in  the  city  of 
New  York  and  in  all  the  country  and  I  had  a  considerable  run  of 
bar  business,  which  by  degrees  came  to  be  poorly  paid,  that  is  from 
the  country,  when  it  was  found  that  I  was  not  exact  in  demanding 
my  dues.  Chancellor  Sanford  appointed  me  reporter  in  his  court. 
I  published  his  decisions  in  one  volume,  a  book  which  I  presume  is 
exceeded  by  few  in  the  English  language  in  point  of  mechanical  cor¬ 
rectness.  I  know  of  one  typographical  error  in  it,  which  I  presume 
no  other  human  being  knows,  or  will  ever  find.  I  doubt  whether 
any  one  other  is  to  be  found.  I  learned  this  habit  of  great  exactness 
in  proof-reading  from  Mr.  S.  himself.  Indeed,  he  made  it  a  condi¬ 
tion  with  me,  and  he  read  all  the  proofs  once.  I,  and  others  also, 
read  them  with  great  care.  With  all  these  means,  I  lived.  But  my 
family  was  large.  Some  of  the  time — nearly  all — perhaps  quite  all 
of  them  were  in  a  course  of  education,  and  my  pecuniary  circum¬ 
stances  were  at  times  much  straightened.  Often  then  I  spread  my 
case  before  Him  who  hears  prayer,  and  wonderful  to  tell,  I  often 
received  relief  from  unthought-of  sources,  at  the  last  and  trying 
moment.  Doubtless  Thou  art  a  God  hearing  prayer !  and  let  all  my 
powers  and  faculties  bless  and  praise  Thy  holy  name.  IIow  very 
merciful  and  kind  hast  Thou  been  to  me! 

About  1826,  and  afterwards,  I  was  appointed  (with  Messrs.  Tib¬ 
betts  and  Allen)  a  commissioner,  and  continued  by  sundry  acts  of 
the  Legislature,  with  various  powers,  in  relation  to  State  Prisons  and 


40 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


Penitentiary  punishment.  We  built  and  governed  the  State  Prison 
at  Sing  Sing.  These  engagements  arose  from  the  opinions  which  I 
had  expressed  and  reported  in  the  Senate  (and  the  year  previous 
had  expressed  in  the  other  house)  relative  to  the  old  State  Prison 
system.  They  led  to  my  essay  on  State  Prison  Punishments.  The 
public  benefit  of  the  joint  efforts  of  us  commissioners  was  the  estab¬ 
lishment  of  the  new,  or  Auburn  system  of  discipline,  in  this  and 
many  of  the  States,  with  the  near  prospect  of  its  general  establish¬ 
ment  among  civilized  nations.  So  far  as  I  can  now  see  or  judge,  I 
suppose  this  to  have  been  the  most  useful  labor  of  my  life ;  and  I 
attach  the  more  importance  to  it,  because  our  system  was  violently 
attacked  and  held  for  a  long  time  a  doubtful  existence,  and  was 
finally  sustained  with  much  difficulty.  The  celebrated  Mr.  Roscoe, 
of  Liverpool,  was  our  most  formidable  opponent.  After  all,  the 
Legislature  turned  me  out  with  much  abuse  and  opprobium.  But 
the  system  remains,  much  obscured,  however,  by  the  political  neces¬ 
sity  of  a  corrupt  pecuniary  administration,  in  order  to  keep  politicians 
in  pay. 

Your  grandfather  Rogers  died  in  1826,  leaving  a  much  larger  for¬ 
tune  than  we  supposed  he  possessed.  From  that  time  your  mother’s 
dividend  of  his  estate  has  placed  us  in  comparatively  easy  circum¬ 
stances.  Thinking  that  I  had  done  enough  of  hard  work  in  life,  I 
now  determined  to  renounce  the  pursuit  of  a  thorny  and  ungrateful 
profession  (except  as  an  object  of  science)  and  devote  my  time  to  my 
health — my  family ;  to  such  benevolent  objects  as  might  fall  in  my 
way ;  to  any  useful  purpose  towards  my  age,  generation  and  country  ; 
and  to  prepare  to  meet  my  God.  Oh!  holy  and  blessed  Spirit  of  all 
grace  !  give  me  that  preparation. 

The  discoveries  made  of  the  crimes,  the  oaths  and  obligations,  and 
the  excesses  of  Free  Masonry,  induced  me  to  join  in  some  efforts  of 
the  Anti-Masons,  while  their  cause  appeared  young  and  feeble. 
Since  they  became  stronger,  I  aim  to  withdraw.  Still  I  have  great 
fears  lest  Masonry  should  resume  its  action  and  triumph.  If  it  does 
so,  then  a  final  adieu  to  any  government  than  that  of  the  lodges. 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


41 


I  expected  to  live  and  die  in  Albany,  but  in  1831,  as  you  know, 
our  Geneva  friends  suggested  the  idea  of  our  removal  to  this  village, 
and  last  May,  ten  years  after  we  had  gone  through  this  place  east¬ 
ward,  we  returned  on  our  tracks  to  this  charming  place.  So  little  is 
it  in  man  to  direct  his  own  steps. 

Labor  and  penury  seem  to  be  accounted  the  great  evils  of  human 
life,  and  as  soon  as  our  altered  circumstances  relieved  me  from  these, 
I  began  to  enjoy  life  in  a  way  unknown  before,  and  which  can  never 
be  conceived  by  those  who  never  knew  toil,  anxiety  and  want. 
But  since  our  removal  to  Geneva  my  life  has  been  one  stream  of 
enjoyment.  I  would  here  begin  to  enumerate  my  mercies,  but  they 
are  more  than  I  can  tell,  and  if  I  should  begin  the  account  I  should 
doubtless  omit  many.  “  I  have  all  things  and  abound.”  I  have  no 
crosses  nor  cares.  Life  is  made  so  exceedingly  delicious  to  me,  that 
I  seem  to  myself  an  exception  to  the  lot  of  man.  I  ask,  with  sur¬ 
prise  and  some  fear,  whether  any  disciple  of  the  Saviour  was  ever 
without  any  thorn  in  the  flesh,  or  what  is  he,  who  experiences  no 
chastisement,  to  think  of  himself  ?  Oh  !  thou  merciful  and  gracious 
God,  who  hast  made  this  part  of  the  closing  years  of  my  life  so 
exceedingly  delightful  to  me,  grant  me  the  aids  of  thy  good  Spirit 
that  I  may  rightly  use  these  blessings ;  may  I  give  thee  all  thanks 
for  thy  great  goodness.  Oh,  that  I  may  not  take  my  final  portion 
in  these  friendships,  happy  as  they  are,  nor  in  any  of  the  temporal 
sweets  by  which  1  am  here  surrounded  and  with  which  I  am  filled ; 
but  oh,  grant  me  a  still  sweeter  mansion,  flowers  that  fade  not,  health 
that  decays  not,  these  same  friends  in  immortal  and  glorified  bodies, 
— all,  all  derived  from  thy  blissful  presence,  from  the  smiles  of  my 
Saviour,  and  the  society  of  saints  and  angels  and  the  spirits  of  just 
men  made  perfect ! 

To  bear  my  testimony  to  the  very  peculiar  (as  I  suppose  it)  mercy 
of  God,  in  this  signal  dispensation  of  earthly  good,  to  one  who  has 
led  a  life  so  little  worthy  of  it,  is  no  small  part  of  the  object  of  this 
paper.  What  else  remains  for  me,  thou  God  knowest ;  and  to  thee, 
with  all  my  heart  and  soul  I  most  cheerfully,  gratefully,  submissively 
confide  myself. 


42 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


Much  remains  to  say  :  much  I  could  add  of  advice  and  the  fruit  of 
observation  on  many  subjects.  I  did  intend,  too,  to  have  stated  the 
plans  of  intellectual  labor  which  I  could  wish  to  execute ;  for  since 
reason  tells  me  that,  at  the  utmost,  I  cannot  execute  the  half  of 
them,  and  may  not  begin  even  one,  so  I  could  wish  you  to  know 
what  I  had  thought  of.  And  it  is  very  delightful  to  me  to  keep  on 
writing  in  this  posthumous  kind  of  way,  to  children  who  have  been 
to  me  so  good  and  affectionate.  But  my  remarks  are  extending  too 
far.  Time  passes.  Life  is  hastening  away. 

Farewell,  farewell,  dearest  wife  and  dearest  children,  till  the  heav¬ 
ens  be  no  more  !  And  through  infinite  riches  of  grace  in  Jesus 
Christ  our  Saviour,  may  we  all,  all  meet  at  His  right  hand  in  heaven, 
thence  to  go  no  more  out  forever !  Amen. 

Sam’l.  M.  Hopkins. 

Geneva,  26th  Dec.,  1832. 


The  following  letter  was  written  and  addressed  to  a  daughter,  by 
Mr.  Hopkins,  on  visiting  the  place  of  his  birth  and  the  scenes  of 
his  childhood : — 

Sunday  Morning,  Oct.  14,  1821. 

This  is  a  part  of  my  journey  through  Connecticut,  of  which  I 
intended  to  give  you  a  particular  account.  This  morning  I  am  alone 
in  my  room,  with  no  proper  book  for  the  day,  and  until  church 
begins  I  may  as  well  write,  although  1  may  but  commence  my  story. 
You  know  I  was  born  in  Salem,  a  parish  in  the  town  of  Waterbury, 
in  H.  Haven  County,  but  brought  up  in  Goshen,  in  Litchfield 
County.  It  has  been  my  desire  to  see  both  places  once  more  in  my 
life,  and  on  my  way  from  Albany  to  Litchfield  I  was  devising  some 
possible  way  to  glance  at  the  place,  which  used  to  be  off  the  stage 
road,  but  behold,  the  stage  passed  by  my  father’s  former  home  at 
Goshen.  Palmer,  his  successor,  keeps  an  inn  at  this  place.  I  told 
who  I  was  and  asked  for  a  candle  to  look  at  my  part  of  the  house. 
All  was  just  as  my  poor  father  made  it  forty  years  ago.  I  looked  at 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


43 


the  room  where  I  usually  slept  when  a  boy ;  at  my  mother’s  bed¬ 
room  ;  at  the  East  room,  which  my  grandparents  occupied  when 
they  came  to  lean  upon  my  father;  and  then  at  the  spare  bedroom, 
which  was  afterwards  my  study  and  where  I  began  some  of  those 
excessive  exertions  at  my  studies,  by  which  alone  I  have  been  able, 
under  heavy  burdens  in  life,  to  bring  myself  forward  among  the 
ranks  of  men  of  education  and  of  cultivated  minds.  In  that  room  I. 
compassed  in  six  weeks,  without  an  instructor,  the  usual  reading  of 
a  year  in  the  classics  at  school.  The  next  year  I  brought  home 
Euclid  for  vacation  amusement,  and  for  sixteen  hours  a  day  pored 
in  rapture  over  the  intellectual  beauty  of  the  combinations  of  quan¬ 
tities  and  the  proportions  of  lines  and  angles  and  figures.  I  looked 
all  about.  The  days  of  childhood  and  youth;  parents  that  nurtured 
me  and  are  gone;  brothers  and  sisters  that  played  or  worked  with 
me,  and  sent  me  little  presents  of  nuts  and  fruits  at  college; — all  this 
and  a  hundred  other  things  rushed  upon  my  memory  with  inexpres¬ 
sible  emotion.  I  was  almost  willing  to  be  gone.  It  was  light 
enough  for  me  to  roam  to  the  brook  where  I  used  to  play  in  the 
water  in  summer,  and  slide  and  break  my  head  in  winter.  Every¬ 
thing  affected  me.  I  could  see  that  the  fences  were  just  where  they 
were  when  I  was  just  old  enough  to  drive  home  the  cows,  and  the 
bars  stood  in  the  same  place  as  when  I  used  to  toil  and  strain  to  put 
them  up,  and  get  angry  because  1  could  not  do  it. 

I  looked  at  the  foundation  of  the  house  again ;  the  stone  abut¬ 
ments  which  support  a  little  garden  under  the  front  windows,  and 
they  bore  the  marks  of  the  chisel  or  drill  when  it  was  in  his  labori¬ 
ous  hand  ;  with  unsparing  effort  he  placed  the  foundation  just  right. 
But  there  is  no  end  to  all  this.  It  cannot  interest  you  as  it  does  me, 
to  whom  the  days  and  the  scenes  and  some  of  the  friends  are  gone 
forever.  So  farewell,  dear  lost  scenes  and  friends — I  shall  not  see 
you  again  till  the  heavens  be  no  more ! 

I  ought  not  to  forget  that,  a  mile  above,  I  passed  the  house  of  our 
Aunt  Smith.  Capt.  Smith  was  a  man  amiable,  modest,  and  just, — 
the  excellent  husband  of  our  excellent  Aunt  Smith.  Of  feeble 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


44 

health,  and  in  such  a  country,  he  could  have  but  slender  means,  yet 
were  his  family  the  charming  people  whom  you  see, — which  may 
show  us  how  much  worth  and  excellence  often  resides  in  retired 
corners  of  the  earth  with  little  worldly  distinction. 

Passed  on  to  N.  Haven.  Received  every  attention  from  Presi¬ 
dent  Day  at  the  agricultural  oration,  and  also  from  Professor  Silli- 
man  and  Mr.  Whitney,  and  even  Father  Rillhouse;  was  taken  and 
placed  in  the  same  pew,  and  walked  in  procession  with  them.  I  was 
gratified  to  see,  wherever  I  went,  so  many  good  men  to  associate 
with,  and  all  of  them  so  disposed  to  treat  me  with  favor  and  distinc¬ 
tion.  The  society  of  wise  and  good  men  is  doubtless  one  of  the 
most  valuable  privileges  and  highest  enjoyments  of  this  life,  except¬ 
ing  only  those  which  especially  appertain  to  one’s  relations  to  our 
Redeemer. 

At  Litchfield  passed  a  day  at  Governor  Wolcott’s,  charmed  as  I 
always  was  with  the  weight  and  excellence  of  his  conversation, 
though  not  always  agreeing  with  him  in  opinion.  Passing  through 
this  country  in  the  stage,  and  in  the  solitary  hours  of  a  night  ride,  I 
thought  over  the  goodness  of  God  which,  among  so  many  trials,  bur¬ 
dens,  dangers  and  toils,  has  still  left  me  that  best  enjoyment — to 
use  and  cultivate  my  mental  faculties,  to  love  the  wise  and  good,  and 
to  be  loved  by  them.  Pleased  with  the  train  of  thought,  and  grate¬ 
ful  to  the  Author  of  all  good,  I  meditated  in  prayer. 

To  my  Father  and  my  God: — Thou  art  my  God,  and  I  will  bless 
thee, — my  Father  God,  and  I  will  exalt  thee.  I  desire  now  to  bow 
myself  with  gratitude  and  with  deep  humility  before  thy  glorious 
Majesty,  and  to  come  before  thee  with  a  tribute  of  praise  and  thanks¬ 
giving  for  all  thy  goodness  and  mercy  and  loving  kindness  to  me. 
Thou  art  my  Creator.  I  bless  thee  that  I  am  again  led  back  by  thy 
providence  to  this  spot ;  to  the  place  where  thou  didst  first  uphold 
my  helpless  infancy.  Here  thou  gavest  me  kind  parents  and  affec¬ 
tionate  friends,  who  nursed  and  smiled  upon  my  childhood.  It  is 
thy  power  which  guarded  me  from  danger,  and  fed  and  defended 
me,  clothed  and  sheltered  me  and  upheld  my  life  from  infancy  to 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


45 


childhood,  from  childhood  to  youth,  to  manhood  and  till  this  time; 
amidst  dangers  and  vicissitudes,  and  through  all  my  wanderings  on 
the  earth ;  in  the  cities  of  men,  in  the  wilderness,  on  the  stormy 
ocean ;  from  pestilence,  from  tempest,  from  war,  and  from  the  vio¬ 
lence  of  evil  men,  thy  watchful  and  guardian  care  has  still  been  my 
protection.  When  I  was  unconscious  of  thy  power,  that  power  was 
my  support.  When  I  denied  thy  providence,  that  providence  still 
guarded  me.  When  I  was  unconscious  of  thy  power,  that  power 
was  my  support.  When  I  sinned  against  thee,  thy  long  suffering 
and  forbearance  still  did  not  cut  me  off ;  and  now  having  obtained 
help  of  thee  I  continue  till  this  time,  desiring  to  witness,  both  to 
small  and  great,  that  God  is  merciful.  After  fifty  years  thou  hast 
brought  me  again  to  the  place  of  my  birth,  and  to  the  land  where 
my  fathers  were  born.  On  this  spot  1  desire  to  remember,  before 
thee,  that  thou  also  hast  been  the  God  of  my  forefathers,  and  that  I 
was  born  of  ancestors  who  lived  lives  of  prayer,  and  in  whose  hands 
was  thy  written  word,  and  in  whose  hearts,  as  I  humbly  trust,  was 
repentance  towards  God  and  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
Hitherto  the  Lord  hath  helped  me.  Thou  hast  cast  my  lot  among 
the  wise  and  the  good,  and  given  me  the  means  of  being  useful 
among  my  fellow  men.  I  desire  to  bless  thee  for  the  partner  thou 
hast  given  me ;  for  my  children ;  for  friends,  relations,  and  social 
and  mental  enjoyments,  and  for  the  unnumbered  blessings  of  thy 
providence  by  which  I  am  surrounded.  I  have  more  abundant  rea¬ 
sons  to  bless  thee  and  praise  thee  for  the  gifts  of  thy  grace ;  that  I 
am  not  left  without  God  in  the  world ;  that  I  am  allowed  to  seek 
thee  in  prayer ;  that  I  am  disposed  to  look  to  Christ  for  redemption  ; 
to  thy  Holy  Spirit  for  light  and  comfort  and  sanctification ;  to  God 
my  Judge  for  reconciliation  and  pardon.  What  is  my  house,  and 
what  is  my  father’s  house,  that  thou  hast  dealt  thus  bountifully  with 
thy  servant!  What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  all  his  mercies! 
1  will  come  before  the  Lord  with  thanksgiving  and  praise.  I  will 
devote  myself  to  thy  service.  I  will  seek  thy  blessing  and  depend 
upon  thy  help,  and  may  thy  grace  be  sufficient  for  me.  Go  with 
4 


46 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


me,  I  beseech  thee,  through  the  residue  of  life.  Guide  me  through 
this  vale  of  tears.  Support  me  in  sorrows  and  discouragements. 
Give  me  each  day  my  daily  bread.  Leave  me  not,  neither  forsake  me, 
O  God  of  my  salvation.  Be  a  God  to  my  children,  whom  I  com¬ 
mend  to  thee.  In  all  the  changes  of  life,  wheresoever  those  children 
shall  live  or  wander  or  be  settled  in  thy  world,  be  thou  their  God  and 
portion,  their  Saviour  and  Deliverer.  And  grant,  O  God,  that  in 
thy  kingdom  of  glory  we  may  all  again  be  brought  together  to  wor¬ 
ship  thee  forever.  For  what  remains  of  life,  give  me  grace  to  serve 
thee  in  sincerity  and  truth.  May  I  remember  the  day  is  far  spent 
and  the  night  cometh  when  no  man  can  work.  Enable  me  strictly 
and  truly  to  examine  myself  whether  I  be  in  the  faith.  Oh,  help 
my  unbelief.  Bring  me  back  from  all  my  infirmities.  Confirm  me 
when  I  waver.  May  thy  Holy  Spirit  guide  and  instruct  me.  Be 
thou  my  all-sufficient  God.  To  thee  I  wholly  commit  myself.  To 
thee,  O  God,  Father,  Son  and  Holy  Spirit,  I  ascribe  all  honor,  bless¬ 
ing,  praise  and  dominion,  forever.  Amen. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  SAMUEL  MILES  LIOPKINS, 

CONTRIBUTED  BY  HIS  CHILDREN. 


EXTRACTS  FROM  “FAMILY  SKETCHES,” 
BY  PROFESSOR  S.  M.  HOPKINS,  MARCH,  1898. 


Of  my  ancestors,  I  know  little  or  nothing.  My  paternal  grandfather,  named 
Samuel,  was  persuaded  by  my  father,  in  the  time  of  his  prosperity,  to  remove 
from  his  hard  Goshen  farm  and  follow  his  son’s  fortunes  into  the  “Western 
country.  ”  He  was  comfortably  established  in  the  young  village  of  Mt.  Morris, 
and  cared  for,  until  his  death  from  the  deadly  bilious  fever  of  the  country  in 
1818.  He  was,  I  think,  the  first  person  buried  in  the  Mt.  Morris  cemetery,  the 
ground  for  which  was  given  by  my  father. 

As  to  my  father’s  physique,  the  portrait,  now  in  possession  of  his  grandson. 
Doctor  George  G.  Hopkins,  of  Brooklyn,  gives  a  fairly  good  idea  of  his  spirited 
intellectual  head  and  countenance.  His  soft  brown  hair  grew  thin  in  later  life, 
but  never  turned  gray. — his  eyes  were  a  light  blue.  He  ante-dated  the  era  of 
beards,  and  always  shaved  his  face  carefully, — his  thin  skin  obliged  him  to  be 
very  choice  in  his  razors  and  their  treatment,  and  he  rather  prided  himself  on 
his  skill  in  keeping  them  in  the  best  order. 

One  could  not  every  day  meet  with  so  fine  a  figure  of  a  man, — he  was  just  six 
feet  high,  and  perfectly  formed  for  strength  and  activity.  When  in  Paris,  at 
the  age  of  about  twenty-five,  he  was  called  “le  Phoebus  Americain," — upon 
his  farm,  and  surrounded  by  his  stalwart  “hands,”  it  was  always  understood 
that  he  was  the  best  man  on  the  ground. 

He  was  a  fine  horseman,  and  took  pleasure  in  mastering  a  spirited  or  fiery 
animal.  When  in  Albany,  he  always  kept  a  good  saddle  horse, — -the  one  I  remem¬ 
ber  was  a  large  and  powerful  bright  bay.  Mounted  upon  this  steed,  with  his 
own  gallant  and  chivalrous  bearing,  he  drew  all  eyes  as  he  trotted  through  the 
streets.  Later,  in  Geneva,  he  sometimes  rode  one  of  a  pair  of  carriage  ponies — 
a  vicious  brute  which  had  thrown  me  two  or  three  times,  and  which  at  length 
succeeded  in  leaving  him  on  his  back  in  the  village  street, — after  that  he  never 
put  foot  in  stirrup  again. 

My  father’s  adventure  in  farming  having  failed,  and  involving  him  in  debt, 
he  had  no  other  resource  but  to  sell  everything  on  the  best  terms  he  could — at 
an  immense  sacrifice  indeed — and  return  to  the  practice  of  the  law.  It  almost 

47 


4S 


REMIN ISCENCES  OF 


broke  liis  heart.  He  detested  the  profession,  and  was,  in  some  respects,  ill 
suited  to  it.  He  had  missed  his  proper  career,  which  was  that  of  a  Professor  of 
Moral  Philosophy  or  Political  Economy,  or  teacher  at  the  head  of  a  law-school. 

He  was  essentially  a  philosopher  and  teacher.  His  knowledge  of  the  princi¬ 
ples  and  history  of  law  was  unsurpassed.  He  had  the  discrimination,  the 
analytic  skill,  the  candor  and  fairness,  that  would  have  made  him  an  ornament 
to  the  judicial  bench.  But  he  was  not  hard  enough  to  make  a  successful  law¬ 
yer;  he  had  too  much  sympathy  and  sense  of  justice;  and  a  certain  nervous 
diffidence  in  public  speaking  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  argue  causes  before 
a  jury.  My  impression  is  that  his  practice  in  Albany  only  just  sufficed  to  keep 
the  wolf  from  the  door. 

When,  in  1829,  my  mother’s  father  (Moses  Rogers,  of  7  State  St.,  New  York) 
died,  and  she  came  into  a  handsome  income,  it  was  with  unspeakable  satisfaction 
that  he  dropped  his  law  business,  and  retired  finally  from  the  Bar,  to  spend  his 
remaining  years  amid  the  delights  of  study,  horticulture  and  congenial  friends, 
in  the  village  of  Geneva.  Of  this  happiest  period  of  his  life,  when  he  was  freed 
from  all  anxieties  and  worries,  and  lived  entirely  at  his  ease,  he  has  given  some 
account,  I  think,  in  his  own  autobiographical  sketch. 

From  the  time  of  his  own  father’s  death,  the  sentiment  of  personal  religion 
deepened  in  his  mind.  In  his  little  “den  ”  (as  he  called  it),  in  his  Geneva  home 
— no  larger  than  a  pantry,  he  spent  much  time  every  day,  in  reading  his  Bible 
and  books  of  devotion  (such  as  Baxter’s  “Dying  Thoughts”),  and  in  prayer. 
So  true  a  gentleman,  so  high-minded  and  honorable  a  man,  so  humble  and 
devout  a  Christian,  I  have  never  elsewhere  known.  This  is  only  a  very  scanty 
and  imperfect  tribute  to  him.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  content  myself  with  it,  but 
if  I  went  on,  I  should  only  expose  myself  to  the  suspicion  of  yielding  to  the 
influence  of  filial  partiality. 

The  circumstances  under  which  he  abruptly  left  college  without  graduating, 
are,  I  believe,  told  by  himself;  of  course  he  got  no  degree;  and  never  had  a 
college  diploma  until,  thirty  years  later,  he  went  to  enter  his  son  at  New  Haven. 
Perhaps  the  Faculty  thought  it  was  magnanimous  in  him,  as  it  was,  to  place  his 
son  at  the  college  where  he  himself  had  suffered,  as  he  thought,  great  injustice. 
They  would  not  be  surpassed  in  generosity;  and  so,  of  their  own  motion,  they 
conferred  on  him  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws ;  this,  at  a  time  when  the  honor 
was  sparingly  conferred,  was,  no  doubt,  very  gratifying  to  him.  At  present, 
when  honorary  degrees  are  often  obtained  through  solicitation  and  influence, 
and  conferred  on  small  lawyers  and  politicians,  they  bring  no  distinction  what¬ 


ever. 


SAMUEL  MILES  IIOPKINS. 


49 


NOTES  FURNISHED  BY  MRS.  JOHN  M.  BRADFORD, 
nee  SARAH  ELISABETH  HOPKINS. 


In  compliance  with  a  request  of  Dr.  Strong,  I  add  a  few  items  to  the  account 
already  given,  of  my  father. 

For  sixty  years  we  have  kept  this  memoir  in  our  own  family,  and  it  seemed 
at  first  almost  like  disobedience  to  his  expressed  injunction  when,  in  response 
to  much  urgent  solicitation,  we  gave  our  consent  to  its  publication. 

My  father  desired  that  there  should  be  no  obituary  notice  of  him,  and  noth¬ 
ing  upon  his  tombstone,  but  a  simple  text  of  Scripture  ;  but  there  were  many 
obituary  notices — that  written  by  Thurlow  Weed  closing  with  the  words  of 
Hamlet : 

“  He  was  a  man,  take  him  for  all  in  all, 

We  shall  not  look  upon  his  like  again.” 

During  my  eighteen  years  of  intimate  companionship  with  my  father,  I  never 
remember  to  have  heard  from  him  one  impatient,  fretful  or  complaining  word, 
or  even  an  expression  of  indignation,  except  when  some  act  of  wrong  or  dishonor 
came  to  his  notice,  and  then  (I  say  it  with  reverence),  his  denunciations  re¬ 
minded  me  of  those  of  our  Lord  upon  the  “Scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites !  ” 

His  charity,  both  in  thought  and  action,  was  boundless;  he  gave  every  man  the 
benefit  of  the  doubt,  and  his  hand  was  ever  ready  to  help  young  men  in  sup¬ 
porting  themselves,  or  to  aid  the  straggling  to  make  their  way  in  the  world. 

He  never  would  have  made  money  by  his  profession,  for  he  always  took  the 
cases  of  the  poor  and  helpless.  Through  all  the  years  of  our  life  in  Albany,  one 
of  the  many  cases  upon  which  he  was  engaged  was  that  of  a  family  of  children 
cheated  of  their  inheritance,  which  he  was  trying  to  secure  for  them. 

Our  home  was  an  asylum  for  dependent  relatives — young  people  who  were 
brought  there  to  be  educated,  or  older  ones  who  were  given  positions  in  the 
household,  and  also  of  distressed  strangers,  and  foreigners,  who  came  with  let¬ 
ters  to  my  father — such  as  the  exiled  Greeks  and  Poles,  some  of  whom  found  a 
home  with  us  for  a  long  time. 

My  dear  mother  gladly  welcomed  my  father’s  relatives,  and  he  as  gladly  gave 
a  home  to  hers,  though  this  was  not  often  necessary,  nearly  all  of  my  mother’s 
family  being  in  prosperous  circumstances ;  but  our  table  was  always  a  long  one, 
with  a  numerous  company  about  it. 

In  removing  from  New  York,  with  its  gaieties  and  a  large  circle  of  friends  and 
relatives,  to  Geneseo,  my  parents  with  four  children,  governess,  and  servants, 
set  out  by  sloop  to  Albany,  by  carriage  to  Utica,  and  from  there  by  springless 


50 


REMINISCENCES  OF 


wagons,  travelling  over  rough  roads  with  all  the  furniture  of  a  large  New  York 
house,  for  their  destination.  Piano,  mirrors,  pictures,  and  even  the  delicate 
bell-shaped  glass  of  the  clock  which  vibrated  under  a  touch  of  the  fingers,  were 
transported  safely  to  that  distant  home,  inhabited  as  their  friends  imagined,  by 
savage  tribes,  and  yet  more  savage  beasts,  and  by  my  mother  spoken  of  until 
the  end  of  her  life  as  “the  far  west.” 

Like  Abraham,  my  father  collected  about  him  his  flocks  and  herds  and  shep¬ 
herds,  and  began  life  in  a  new  country,  and  among  strange  people,  and  these 
people  were  mostly  Indians. 

The  new  house  was  prepared  in  Utica,  but  the  family  lived  in  Geneseo  for  a 
considerable  time  before  they  could  move  into  it,  and  even  then,  as  the  doors 
and  windows  had  not  arrived,  the  openings  were  covered  by  blankets,  while  at 
night  fires  were  kept  burning  about  the  house  to  frighten  away  the  wolves. 

In  a  beautiful  wood,  overlooking  the  fertile  valley  of  the  Genesee,  the  colon¬ 
ial  house  was  built.  Panny  Wright,  the  first  woman’s  rights  advocate  and 
lecturer  in  this  country,  who  happened  to  be  travelling  through  that  region  in 
1818,  was  met  in  the  woods  by  my  father  and  sister,  and  invited  to  the  house. 
In  recording  her  impressions  she  calls  it  a  “palatial  residence,”  but  my  recol¬ 
lection  of  it  as  I  visited  the  place  years  later,  is,  that  it  was  a  large  comfortable 
wooden  house,  white,  with  green  blinds  and  broad  piazzas,  with  winding  ave¬ 
nues  leading  to  lodges  at  the  two  entrances,  and  only  enough  trees  felled  to 
open  views  to  the  valley  below. 

Here  the  three  younger  children,  and  I,  the  youngest  of  them  all,  were  born. 
Our  nearest  neighbors  were  the  Seneca  Indians,  and  their  dusky  faces  are  among 
my  earliest  recollections.  Kinder,  gentler,  and  more  honest  neighbors  could 
not  be  found,  until  white  men  brought  them  the  “fire-water,”  thus  corrupting 
and  brutalizing  them. 

The  great  chief  lied  Jacket,  nature’s  gentleman  and  eloquent  orator,  suc¬ 
cumbed  to  the  passion  for  drink,  and  would  lie  in  the  woods  for  days  and  nights 
with  his  jug  beside  him,  stupefied  with  rum,  and  the  common  Indians,  after  this 
passion  for  strong  drink  seized  them,  were  ready  to  rob,  or  even  to  murder,  for 
money  to  purchase  the  “snik-ke-yi”  (whiskey). 

There  were  many  interesting  tales  told  of  these  red  neighbors  of  ours,  which 
I  have  not  space  to  set  down  here.  They  loved  my  father,  who  was  always 
kind  and  just  to  them,  and  they  gave  to  him  the  name  of  “  shin-ne-wah-ne  ’ 

( the  gentleman). 

When  I  was  four  years  of  age,  we  removed  to  Albany,  where  my  father 
resumed  the  practice  of  the  law.  Here  he  was  a  member  of  the  Legislature,  as 
he  had  previously  been  of  Congress.  At  his  “Legislature  dinners”  were  always 


SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS. 


51 


to  be  seen  Tliurlow  Weed,  Mr.  Seward,  and  many  other  prominent  and  distin¬ 
guished  men,  whose  names  I  have  not  time  to  record. 

I  remember  Daniel  Webster,  and  the  Chancellors  and  Chief  Justices ; 
La  Fayette,  on  his  second  visit  to  America,  with  whom  my  parents  took  break¬ 
fast,  and  whom  I  was  permitted  to  meet.  The  stately  Governor  Clinton  walked 
up  the  aisle  of  the  Second  Presbyterian  Church  one  Sunday  morning,  with 
Mrs.  Clinton  by  his  side  as  usual,  and  a  procession  of  sons  and  daughters  behind 
them.  With  the  Governor  walked  a  dignified  gentleman,  who  attracted  general 
attention, — this  was  the  great  Sir  John  Franklin,  on  his  way  for  the  second  time 
to  the  polar  regions. 

As  we  sat  in  the  gloaming  by  our  blazing  wood  fire  in  the  winter  evenings,  a 
silent  figure  would  sometimes  glide  in,  and  after  a  few  moments  would  as  silently 
steal  away;  this  was  Aaron  Burr,  despised  by  every  one,  but  tolerated  and  kindly 
treated  by  my  father,  because  of  benefits  received  from  him  when  he  was  a  strug¬ 
gling  young  lawyer. 

In  1832  it  was  decided  that  we  should  remove  to  Geneva,  in  order  that  my 
father  might  spend  his  last  days  near  his  much-loved  sister  Mrs.  Dwight.  We 
made  the  canal  journey  on  board  a  new  packet-boat  chartered  for  the  occasion, 
the  forerunner,  though  we  dreamed  it  not,  of  the  modern  house-boat.  This 
was  our  home  for  a  week;  the  cabin  was  a  pleasant  parlor,  with  piano,  centre- 
table,  books,  games  and  work;  and  it  was  an  experience  which  we  would 
gladly  have  prolonged;  but  it  was  ended  by  our  arrival  at  our  pleasant  home  in 
Geneva.  Here  my  father  spent  five  happy  years,  and  here  he  sank  peacefully 
to  his  rest,  in  charity  with  all  the  world,  and  “in  the  sure  and  certain  hope  of  a 
glorious  resurrection.” 


GENEALOGY  OF  THE  HOPKINS  FAMILY. 


The  Hopkins  Family  is  said  by  some  to  have  come  from  Staffordshire  in 
England.  Others  assign  the  town  of  Coventry  in  Warwickshire  as  its  original 
home.  As  Warwickshire  and  Staffordshire  are  contiguous  counties,  and  the 
stage-road  from  London  to  Liverpool  traverses  them  both,  and  as  family  con¬ 
nections  may  have  stretched  across  the  boundary  line  between  them,  both  of 
these  stories  may  have  their  element  of  truth.  At  Coventry  however  we  find 
a  Stephen  Hopkins  so  early  as  1609,  and  there,  on  certain  old  buildings,  the 
Hopkins  crest  is  credibly  related  to  exist  to  day. 

Goodwin,  in  his  “Plymouth  Republic,”  asserts  that  “Elder  Brewster  and  his 
son  Edward  in  1609  became  members  of  the  Virginia  family  just  formed,  and  this 
year  Stephen  Hopkins  and  his  family,  and  other  non-conformists  sailed  in  the 
fleet  of  Gates  and  Somers  to  relieve  the  colony  at  Jamestown,  Virginia.  He  is 
mentioned  as  lay-reader  to  Mr.  Buck,  chaplain  of  the  expedition.”  Yet  some¬ 
what  later  than  this  he  signed  his  name  with  a  cross,  perhaps  like  Peregrine 
White  (born  in  the  Mayflower,  the  first  white  child  born  in  New  England, 
November  20,  1620,  and  died  in  1704),  “who in  youth  used  his  pen  in  a  forcible 
manner,  but  in  his  last  days  made  his  mark  in  his  will.” 

The  vessel  destined  for  Virginia  was  shipwrecked  off  the  coast  of  Bermuda. 
This  shipwreck  was  not  simply  the  means  of  discovering  the  island.  It  resulted 
in  returning  to  England  in  1611  or  1612  a  man  designed  by  Providence  to 
become  one  of  the  most  prominent  of  the  Plymouth  Pilgrims. 

When  the  Plymouth  Colony  was  projected,  it  was  only  natural  that  the  same 
love  of  adventure  and  of  freedom  which  had  led  Stephen  Hopkins  to  sail  for 
Virginia  should  lead  him  to  sail  for  New  England.  His  hardships  in  Bermuda 
gave  him  an  excellent  preparation  for  colonizing  the  northern  portion  of  our 
western  continent.  At  any  rate  he  is  the  fourteenth  in  the  list  of  the  immortal 
forty-one  who  in  December,  1620,  signed  the  compact  in  the  cabin  of  the 
Mayflower. 

Stephen  Hopkins  was  always  called  “Mister  ”  (=  Master)  though  only  twelve 
persons  in  the  list  of  the  Mayflower  passengers  have  this  prefix  to  their  names. 
He  was  the  constant  companion  of  Miles  Standish  in  his  military  expeditions, 
and  he  was  associated  with  Winslow  in  his  embassy  to  Massassoit.  It  is  said 
that  he  was  a  dealer  in  leather.  He  was  certainly  in  the  beaver- trade  with  Mr. 
John  Atwood  of  Plymouth,  which  rendered  possible  his  falling  in  with  other 
skins  suitable  for  tanning  purposes. 


52 


GENEALOGY  OF  THE  HOPKINS  FAMILY. 


53 


Before  he  left  England,  Stephen  Hopkins  had  two  children,  Giles  and  Con¬ 
stanta,  by  a  first  wife,  and  at  least  one  other  named  Damaris,  by  a  second  wife. 
In  Bradford’s  “History  of  Plymouth  Plantation”  (pp.  448,  452),  we  find  the 
list  of  passengers  in  the  Mayflower.  Among  them  are  “  Stephen  Hopkins  and 
Elizabeth  his  wife,  and  two  children,  Giles  and  Constanta,  both  by  a  former 
wife,  and  two  more  by  this  wife,  called  Damaris  and  Oceanus,  the  last  born  at 
sea,  and  two  servants,  Edward  Doty  and  Edward  Litster.”  It  is  plausibly 
maintained  that  while  Giles  was  the  eldest  son  of  Stephen  by  his  first  wife, 
there  was  a  second  son  John,  also  by  the  first  wife,  and  that  this  John,  left 
behind  in  England  on  account  of  the  second  wife’s  jealousy  and  coming  himself 
to  Boston  thirteen  years  after,  is  the  ancestor  of  all  our  Hopkins  tribe. 

Certain  it  is  that  Elizabeth  Hopkins  exercised  such  influence  over  Stephen 
that  he  made  her  son  Caleb  his  heir,  regardless  of  the  rights  of  Giles,  his 
eldest  son  by  the  former  wife.  It  is  also  curious  to  find  that  Giles’s  first  son 
was  named  Stephen,  and  that  his  second  son  was  named  John.  The  names 
Stephen  and  John  indeed  succeed  each  other  continuously  during  the  early 
history  of  the  family.  What  seems  to  be  the  record  of  Stephen’s  second  mar¬ 
riage  at  St.  Mary’s,  Whitechapel,  London,  reads  simply:  “Stephen  Hopkins 
and  Eliza  Fisher,  March,  1617.”  The  record  of  marriages  at  St.  Mary 
Le  Strand,  London,  add  other  family  names  to  the  list:  “November  23,  1612, 
John  Hopkins  and  Ann  Tumber  “February  15,  1616,  Hugh  Richardson  and 
Mary  Hopkins.”  The  “John”  here  mentioned  may  possibly  be  the  brother  of 
Stephen,  from  whom  John  of  Hartford  was  named.  The  name  Samuel  is  also 
perpetuated  in  the  subsequent  history  of  the  Hopkins  family.  And,  lest  all 
these  records  from  London  churches  should  seem  impertinent,  we  must  remem¬ 
ber  that  Bradford  gives  Stephen  Hopkins  as  one  of  the  Mayflower  passengers 
“from  the  London  section.” 

Thus  an  argument  has  been  constructed  to  prove  that  the  Hopkins  race  is 
descended  from  Stephen  Hopkins  of  the  Mayflower.  We  can  trace  our  descent 
with  certainty  to  John  Hopkins  who  came  from  England  to  Massachusetts  with 
the  Reverend  Thomas  Hooker  in  1633.  It  would  be  very  pleasant  to  know 
that  this  John  Hopkins  was  the  Mayflower  Stephen’s  son  by  the  first  mar¬ 
riage,  early  deprived  of  his  mother  by  her  death  and  left  behind  in  England 
by  his  father  thirteen  years  before.  The  age  and  name  of  the  son,  and  the 
name  which  the  son  in  turn  gave  to  his  son,  corroborate  the  surmise.  Dr. 
Samuel  Hopkins  of  Newport,  and  President  Mark  Hopkins  of  Williams  Col¬ 
lege,  although  their  biographers  throw  doubt  upon  this  genealogy,  both 
inclined  to  the  belief  that  Stephen  Hopkins  of  the  Mayflower  was  their  ances¬ 
tor.  Yet  the  first  link  of  connection  still  remains  somewhat  hypothetical,  and 


54 


GENEALOGY  OF  THE  HOPKINS  FAMILY. 


our  descent  from  so  distinguished  a  member  of  the  original  Plymouth  Com¬ 
pany  cannot  be  considered  as  absolutely  proved. 

Samuel  Miles  Hopkins,  in  the  sketch  of  his  own  life  which  follows,  claims 
that  his  ancestors  were  Puritans  as  far  back  as  the  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
and  he  adds  that  they  were  uniformly  honest  men.  We  can  at  any  rate  pride 
ourselves  on  our  forefathers  from  the  days  of  Joliu  Hopkins  down.  As  has 
been  already  said,  he  came  from  England  to  Massachusetts  with  the  Reverend 
Thomas  Hooker  in  1633.  In  that  same  year  he  married  a  wife  named  Jane. 
Some  member  of  the  family  has  seen  a  history  in  which  was  written  in  pencil- 
mark,  after  the  word  “Jane,”  the  word  “Strong,”  making  it  possible  that  the 
Strongs  and  the  Hopkins  foregathered  even  thus  early. 

John  Hopkins  was  admitted  freeman  in  Cambridge  in  1634,  the  same  year 
that  his  son  Stephen  was  born.  When  the  Reverend  Thomas  Hooker  became 
a  founder  of  the  Connecticut  Colony  in  1636,  John  Hopkins  apparently  went 
with  him  to  Hartford.  The  records  of  that  Colony  at  any  rate  make  honorable 
mention  of  him  so  early  as  1639.  He  is  called  “juror”  in  that  year,  and 
“townsman”  in  1640.  He  was  a  miller,  and  was  the  partner  of  Governor 
Edward  Hopkins  of  Connecticut.  He  owned  a  farm  south  of  Mill  River,  near 
the  site  of  the  old  Charter  Oak,  and  he  is  commonly  called  “John  Hopkins 
of  Hartford.”  John  Hopkins,  born  in  England  probably  about  1613,  died  at 
Hartford,  Conn.,  in  1654,  leaving  two  children,  Stephen  and  Bethia.  This 
name  Bethia,  like  Beth,  Bertha,  and  Berthia,  was  perhaps  one  of  the  nicknames 
for  Elizabeth  with  which  the  age  abounded,  and  it  would  be  a  singular'  confir¬ 
mation  of  relationship  if  John  Hopkins  of  Hartford  in  a  forgiving  spirit  named 
his  daughter  Bethia  after  his  stepmother,  as  he  had  named  his  son  after  his 
father  Stephen. 

Stephen  Hopkins  of  Hartford,  in  the  second  generation,  was  born  in  1634; 
was  made  freeman  in  1651;  married  Dorcas  Bronson,  daughter  of  John  Bron¬ 
son  of  Farmington,  who  died  May  10th,  1697.  He  had  six  children,  John 
Stephen,  Ebenezer,  Joseph,  Dorcas,  and  Mary.  He  built  the  mill  in  Waterbury 
in  1680,  but  gave  it  to  his  son  John  to  run,  he  himself  never  leaving  Hartford. 
He  died  at  Hartford,  in  October,  1689. 

In  the  third  generation,  John  Hopkins,  eldest  son  of  Stephen,  was  born  in 
1665.  He  married,  in  1683,  Hannah  (Rogers?),  who  died  May  30,  1730.  He 
was  Sergeant  Ensign  and  Deputy  to  the  General  Court  for  sixteen  years.  He 
was  “The  Miller  ”  of  Waterbury,  where  he  had  allotted  to  him  twenty  acres,  and 
also  a  home-lot,  in  consideration  of  his  usefulness  to  the  town  as  a  miller. 
Waterbury  was  at  first  called  Salem.  John  Hopkins  died  November  4,  1732. 
His  children  were  John,  Consider,  Stephen,  Timothy,  Samuel,  Mary,  Hannah, 
Dorcas — eight  in  all. 


GENEALOGY  OF  THE  HOPKINS  FAMILY. 


55 


In  the  fourth  generation,  Stephen  Hopkins,  fourth  child  of  John,  was  born 
November  19,  1689.  He  married  Susannah  Peck,  of  Wallingford,  in  1717.  He 
lived  at  Waterbury,  Conn.,  and  died  there  January  4,  1769.  His  brother  Joseph 
was  elected  to  the  Legislature,  half-yearly,  for  seventy  successive  times.  His 
younger  brother  Timothy  (1691-1749)  was  the  father  of  Dr.  Samuel  Hopkins 
(1721-1803)  the  noted  theologian  of  Newport,  R.  I.;  and  Samuel’s  youngest 
brother  Mark  was  the  father  of  Archibald  Hopkins  and  the  grandfather  of 
President  Mark  Hopkins  of  Williams  College  (1802-1887). 

In  the  fifth  generation,  Stephen  Hopkins,  son  of  the  preceding  Stephen,  was 
born  June  28,  1719.  He  married  Dorothy  Talmadge  of  Long  Island  for  his 
first  wife,  and  she  was  the  mother  of  his  son  Samuel.  For  his  third  wife  he 
married  widow  Ann  Miles  of  Wallingford,  the  mother  of  Samuel’s  wife  Mary. 
Stephen  Hopkins  died  at  Waterbury  in  1796. 

In  the  sixth  generation,  Samuel  Hopkins  was  born  November  10,  1748.  He 
removed  from  Waterbury,  then  called  Salem,  to  Goshen,  Conn.,  in  1774,  and 
there  spent  most  of  his  days.  In  1771,  he  married,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
Mary  Miles,  a  daughter  of  his  stepmother,  his  father’s  third  wife.  Mary  Miles 
Hopkins  was  born  October  9,  1753,  and  died  September  19,  1811.  Samuel  was 
thirteen  times  elected  Representative  in  the  Connecticut  General  Assembly. 
He  was  a  man  of  large  reading,  of  literary  tastes,  but  especially  of  theological 
acumen.  He  was  the  elder  brother  of  Dr.  Lemuel  Hopkins  the  poet,  who  was 
born  at  Waterbury  in  1750,  and  died  at  Hartford  in  1801. 

Samuel  Hopkins  served  as  a  soldier  in  the  War  of  the  Revolution.  In  the 
year  1776  he  enlisted  at  Winchester  and  marched  to  the  defense  of  New  York. 
Samuel  Miles  Hopkins,  in  the  memoir  to  which  this  genealogical  account  is  an 
introduction,  says:  “I  remember  my  father  being  absent  with  the  militia  who 
marched  to  the  defense  of  New  York  in  1776.”  The  Hopkins  family  has  been 
more  noted  for  its  achievements  in  literary  than  in  military  affairs,  yet  at  least 
one  member  of  the  family  risked  something  as  a  soldier  in  the  War  of  Inde¬ 
pendence.  It  may  also  be  remembered  that  one  of  the  great-grandsons  of 
Stephen  Hopkins  of  the  Mayflower  wrote  “Stephen  Hopkins,”  with  a  weak 
hand  but  a  stout  heart,  beneath  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  while  the 
signer’s  brother  was  Ezekiel  Hopkins,  the  first  Admiral  of  the  American  Navy, 
and  the  equal  in  rank  with  Washington  himself. 

In  1809,  with  his  son  Mark,  Deacon  Jesse  Stanley  and  others,  Samuel  Hop¬ 
kins  removed  from  Goshen,  Conn.,  to  Mount  Morris,  N.  Y.,  and  he  died  at 
Mt.  Morris,  March  19,  1818.  He  had  six  children,  Samuel  Miles  Hopkins,  born 
May  9, 1772,  died  October  8, 1837;  Polly  Hopkins,  born  October  16,  1775,  died 
August  17,  1872;  Mark  Hopkins,  born  March  9, 1778,  died  May  22,  1832;  Susan 


56 


GENEALOGY  OF  THE  HOPKINS  FAMILY. 


Miles  Hopkins,  born  Marcli  22,  1782,  died  August  30,  1860;  Fraderick  Miles 
Hopkins,  born  January  22,  1791,  died  February  20,  1879;  Dudley  Hopkins, 
died  in  infancy,  1794. 

In  the  seventh  generation,  Samuel  Miles  Hopkins,  the  author  of  the  autobio¬ 
graphical  sketch  which  follows,  was  born,  as  has  been  said,  May  9,  1772.  In 
1800  he  married  Sarah  Elizabeth  Rogers  of  New  York  City.  His  children  were 
seven:  Mary  Elizabeth  Hopkins  (Mrs.  William  Gordon  Yer Planck),  born  April 
13,  1802,  died  February  28,  1857;  William  Rogers  Hopkins,  born  January  2, 
1805,  died  November  12, 1876;  Julia  Anne  Hopkins  (Mrs.  William  E.  Sill)  born 
February  22,  1807,  died  March  5,  1849;  Hester  Rogers  Hopkins  (Mrs.  Charles 
A.  Rose),  born  November  5,  1808,  died  October  8,  1845;  Samuel  Miles  Hop¬ 
kins,  D.  D.,  born  August  8,  1813,  for  many  years  Professor  in  the  Auburn 
Theological  Seminary;  Woolsey  Rogers  Hopkins,  born  July  14,  1815;  Sarah 
Elizabeth  Hopkins  (Mrs.  John  M.  Bradford),  born  August  20,  1818. 


ANCESTRY  OF  SAMUEL  MILES  HOPKINS,  SUMMARIZED, 


1633 

1st  Generation  - 

-  John  Hopkins 

— 

Jane  (Strong  ?) 

of  Hartford 

of  Boston  (?) 

1613  (?)-1654-41 

died  (?) 

two  children 

two  children 

1664  (?) 

2nd  Generation  - 

-  Stephen  Hopkins 

= 

= 

Dorcas  Bronson 

of  Hartford 

of  Farmington 

1634-1689-55 

died  1697-57  (?) 

six  children 

six  children 

1683 

3rd  Generation  - 

-  John  Hopkins 

— 

Hannah  (Rogers  ? ) 

of  Waterbury 

of  Waterbury 

1665-1732-67 

died  1730-70  (?) 

eight  children 

eight  children 

1 

1717 

4th  Generation  - 

-  Stephen  Hopkins 

= 

Susannah  Peck 

of  Waterbury 

of  Wallingford 

1689-1769-80 

died  1755-75 

six  children 

six  children 

5th  Generation 


6th  Generation 


7th  Generation 


1747 

Stephen  Hopkins 
of  Waterbury 
1719-1796-77 
six  children 


1771 

Samuel  Hopkins  = 

of  Goshen 
1748-1818-70 
six  children 


1800 

Samuel  Miles  Hopkins 
born  May  9,  1772 
died  Oct.  8,  1837 
seven  children 


Dorthy  Talmadge 

of  Long  Island, 1st  wife 
died  1761-35  (?) 
five  children 


Mary  Miles 

of  Wallingford 
died  1811-58 
six  children 


Sarah  Elisabeth  Rogers 
born  Feb.  1,  1778 
died  Dec.  17,  1866 
seven  children 


’ 


Date  Due 


Library  Bureau  Cat  no.  1137 

